Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory
by AlfheimWanderer
Summary: Sequel to Broken Chains. Shinji's achievements at the Potions Championship were not without cost, as his criminal behavior has finally caught up with him. To avoid certain death, the Boy-From-the-East takes a desperate gamble, staking his life and freedom on being able to single-handedly face down the forces of an invading army, but even victory will come at a very hefty price...
1. Lying in Wait

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 1. **_Lying in Wait_

Matou Shinji had never really cared for ambushes. In his mind, there was something almost cowardly about striking at someone who couldn't fight back – at least when the enemy he was facing was human, or close enough as made little difference. That said, he was well aware that such tactics were necessary at times, especially given that compared to the monsters of the moonlit world, he was nothing more than a gnat to be swatted.

The Trials on the island had proven that much, for hadn't he only survived the Trials of Insight and Force thanks to the American Champion and the borrowed strength of Perseus? Hadn't he only managed to eke out an unlikely victory over the avatar of an Outer God by nearly burning himself out drawing upon the power in blood of an Ultimate One's echo?

If he'd learned anything, it was that his strength alone was…it wasn't enough for these terrifying encounters, and no amount of training could fix that. After all, he wasn't the protagonist of some shounen manga or even some battle-oriented light novel (even if in hindsight, coming to Britain to attend Hogwarts and learn the odd craft practiced by witches did feel like he had been dropped into another world – one whose rules and expectations were quite alien to him, where "doing his best" was one of the riskiest things he could do).

His one guiding light, his one lifeline to sanity that first year, had been the enigmatic girl named Sialim Sokaris, who had been intimately connected to the moonlit world in ways he could not have imagined, who had endured pain and discomfort on a scale that his mind could hardly fathom – and who had not hesitated to do what was necessary to achieve her aims.

'_And as one who strives to reach her side, I can do no less.'_

After all, how could he expect her to accept him if he shied away from what _she_ would have done in his place – from what _she _would have him do?

Even if it meant sacrificing everything, even if it meant becoming the enemy of the world and betraying everything he'd ever known, he would do it, because she willed it of him.

As such, his distaste for ambushes, born out of childish beliefs about risk and honor, weren't something he could justify indulging – not to himself, and certainly not to her. If he wanted to win, to so thoroughly crush the multitude of worms who sought to tear him apart that they could never rise to challenge him again, he couldn't hold anything back.

…which was why he was perched on the ceiling of the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, with the darkness around him heavy and cloying, almost oppressive, thanks to a rather liberal application of Peruvian Darkness Powder.

He didn't, couldn't, think of those he would soon be killing as fellow humans. Humans wouldn't commit such terrible atrocities to one another.

These then were maggots. Worms. Hateful wretches who would raise their hands against the innocent, deserving only **of **_**death**_.

And the worst part was, he couldn't just go and seek them, not with as many as there were out in Magical London.

He had to _wait, _with anticipation, impatience and fear mingling together into an exquisite brew young soldiers had experienced since the earliest days of war.

'_Soon. Soon I will reveal myself to these wretches. Soon.'_

* * *

In the aftermath of his perhaps foolhardy oath to hold the line against any detachments from the force sacking London that were sent against Ministry so that its employees had time to evacuate, Matou Shinji had expected to be led to the Atrium by Nymphadora Tonks so that he could prepare himself – and the Atrium – for the battle to come.

After all, since Zelkova had gone off with Luna, he'd realized that he didn't have access to fusion, his usual trump card/equalizer in situations like these. Nor had he brought _ofuda_, the battle armor of the Americans, or something like the Saint Quartz ring with him, meaning that all he had available was what he had on him: the formal robes awarded to him by the Centre (which admittedly had some protective enchantments, mostly since potions brewing could be a risky business), his hazel and coral wand (which he'd used before, but was far less used to than his other wand), and…whatever odd powers he'd gained on the island.

Even as he'd thought that, his body had begun to change in anticipation of the devastation to come, with his teeth becoming sharper, his fingers beginning to lengthen into claws, the impressions of scales appearing on the surface of his skin, and his pupils shrinking to hellish slits.

A handful of minutes – if that was really all the time he had – wasn't enough to do much, but if he drew upon his rage, reminded himself that peace was a lie, that there was only passion, stoked the flames of his inner furnace to terrible new heights, gave himself over to the inhuman power slumbering in his soul, he might just stand a chance against witches and giants and inferi.

Maybe.

At the very least, he would not go gentle into the dark night, and if he fell, it would be after taking as many of them as he could with him, their screams of agony as they were set afire, or rent limb from limb, spurring him onwards so that his name would live in infamy for a thousand generations.

…and yet, when the elevator had come to a halt, the doors had opened not on the Atrium, but a sprawling mess of hallways, with the boy turning to Tonks to confront her for wasting what little time he had with a preventable _mistake_.

"Where are we?" the boy had demanded. "This isn't the Atrium."

"We're—" the Auror had begun to reply, only for her voice to falter as she glanced at him, her eyes widening as she noted his far more reptilian countenance. "…I thought you might want some armor. Or a spare wand. Or something before you went off to throw your life away."

"An armory?" Shinji's voice had softened a bit, as his mind turned to what implements of destruction awaited. "You wouldn't have anything more useful than _wands_ and _robes_, would you?" he'd hissed, dismissing most of what he could come up with as useless.

"We…see for yourself," Tonks had replied, visibly gathering herself as she stepped out of the elevator. "It will be quicker than explaining."

The boy had grunted in acquiescence as he moved to follow, hoping that this little diversion wouldn't waste too much his already limited time. His life was on the line, after all – well, and those of the Ministry employees, he supposed, though they were hardly as important.

After what seemed like a small eternity, but was only really fifteen seconds of walking, Tonks had come to a halt in front of what looked like a blank wall, with the boy about to snark about how he hoped her skill in combat was better than her sense of direction, when she spoke.

"Maledictus," she'd intoned, placing her hand against the wall as she did so.

To his surprise, a section of the wall had proceeded to vanish as soon as she touched it, revealing a vast room filled with racks upon racks of things like explosive potions, brooms, bags of suspicious-looking powders, wyvenhide robes, wands, blades, and more.

"One of our armories," the Auror had explained, pre-empting the boy's questions. "We'd meant it to arm our recruits but…" She's trailed off, shaking her head. "We're going to evacuate as much of this as we can with us, but the rest will have to be destroyed so it doesn't fall into enemy hands. Given that, might as well let you take whatever you think will help."

Snorting in agreement, the boy had proceeded inside, trying to get a closer look at what was there, because he didn't have the time – or carrying capacity – to take it all.

Belts laden with explosive potions.

Crates of Chocolate.

Rust red Auror Robes.

Metal Bucklers, which stood out as odd until Tonks had explained that they had been enchanted to reflect spellfire.

Platforms capable of creating a shield tall enough for a person to crouch behind.

Wands of all varieties

Various sacks of powders.

Five armored "golems", with control rods.

Pouches full of first aid potions.

…and threeswords that were obviously magical, what with one oozing strands of darkness from the place where hilt met sheath, one whose exposed blade shone like liquid sunlight, and one whose sheathe was frosted over.

'_Huh,' _he'd thought, taking a step towards the blades, one of which seemed to call to something in his soul.

"I wouldn't touch those, if I were you," Tonks had interjected. "They're…rather dangerous."

Shinji had shot the Auror an exasperated look, as if to say "well of course, they're magical swords, what the hell did you expect?"

"That is," the Auror had continued with nary a stumble, "the wizards who tried using them…they all died in horrible ways. One even disemboweled himself when he tried to put the…the shiny one into a scabbard."

"He should have respected the sword as a weapon instead of being careless," the boy said dismissively. "Especially a sword whose very nature _sings_ of fire and blood."

Tonks' expression had grown tight and pinched at the boy's words, though she said nothing in reply, only watching as Matou Shinji flitted about the room, grabbing a couple of control rods, sniffing a handful of Peruvian Darkness powder, and generally stuffing his pockets with whatever came to his hands.

"How do you work these?" was the only thing Shinji said as he finished up his bit of "shopping." Tonks had turned to look at what he meant, only to see a long rod just in front of her face. "You stroke it or something?"

"No…" Tonks had corrected, trying to take a step back, only to find herself against a wall. "You hold it in your hands for a minute, so it registers you as a valid user. Then you just tell the golem what to do."

"Does the golem have to be able to hear me?"

"No, not as long as you have the rod," the Auror had explained.

"Heh. That works," the boy grunted. "We should get to the Atrium then, and I'll just call them afterwards."

"Fair."

That was the next to last thing Tonks had him before escorting him to the Atrium and leaving him there, letting him handle whatever preparations he felt like he needed to make before the battle began. The last, of course, was _"_good luck", though he could tell her heart wasn't in it.

In the scant bit of time remaining, the boy had done what little he could to prepare the battleground to his advantage, shutting off the lights, sprinkling Peruvian Darkness Powder everywhere, making a few _ofuda_, calling the golems to guard the elevator room, sealing the gate between it and the rest of the Atrium behind him, and flying up to the ceiling above the far end of the Atrium, where he would lie in wait.

'_Soon they will come, and soon I will kill them.'_

* * *

Back in the present, Shinji was distracted from his thoughts by a number of distinctive _cracking_ sounds, with his enhanced earth sense noting the appearance of a great many entities, though just how many there were, he could not see, as he was as blinded by the dark as they.

All the more so since there is no muffled cry of panic, no scattered attempts to cast _lumos _(which would have been in vain), merely a shuffling of robes, and then a single person barking words in something that sounded vaguely like Russian.

'_Well, fine. If he's talking, then he must be pretty important. Let's see how the army reacts to me cutting off the head of the serpent.'_

So resolved, the boy did what no one would have expect from a single defender outnumbered by an unknown, but sizeable number of assailants.

He_ attacked._

* * *

The wizards who had led the attack on London were of many varied backgrounds. Some were former criminals, out of work and out of luck after serving their sentences, only to be approached at their lowest and offered a chance at redemption by one of the legends of Magical Europe – Gellert Grindelwald himself. Some were werewolves who had been cast out of wizarding society, and left to fend for themselves on scraps and less than scraps, only for an agent of the International Confederation – or a great revolutionary, depending who one asked – to offer them a place where they could belong, to promise them training, shelter, _legitimacy,_ so long as they helped him with something they were already inclined to do: take down Britain, the pariah of Magical Europe, which incidentally was one of the great fonts of racism against their kind.

And of course, some were career mercenaries, members of the elite company known as the Relcaimers, who had fought on every battlefield there was in Europe. They'd worked for magical governments, fighting against Dark Lords when the forces of those governments could not. They'd worked for warlords seeking to set up a power base in the contested regions that had emerged in the wake of the Soviet Union's downfall, and for adventurers who needed muscle to clean out the ruins of a research facility or two.

They'd even worked for the International Confederation as contractors when the use of an ICW member's official forces might be seen as…provocative, especially if one needed to carry out an operation near the borders, or within the borders, of a magical nation notoriously touchy about its sovereignty – with China being the ur-example.

Despite their successes, however, they too were outcasts of a sort, given their willingness to do what others were not, and their talent for martial magic in a world where most nations tried to pretend they were beyond the need for something as "barbaric" as the Dark Arts. They were the knives in the dark, used and hidden, never really talked about or acknowledged in polite company, and it rankled.

…as such, when they were offered Magical Britain on a platter, with their client essentially promising them that not only would there be no consequences for using whatever it took to subdue the rogue nation of Britain, but that the island – and the resources of its Ministry - would be recognized as theirs by right of conquest, many of them saw this as the opportunity of a lifetime.

Some wondered whether this was too good of a deal, as the ICW and its agents had never offered them something quite so open-ended before, but to assuage their concerns, the man who called himself "Grindelwald" had brought up the bloody history of Statute enforcement, and how in times past, Britain itself had been involved in actions such as the killing of every magically capable man, woman, and child in New Zealand due to the Maori failing to honor the Statute.

New Zealand had then, for a time, been given to Britain to administer, only for separatist elements among the occupying force to declare independence from Britain. Tibet was also more or less permanently occupied by the International Task Force due to its population of Yetis, so there was precedent for military forces to hold territory and be treated as states or state-like units in the Wizarding World.

With that sorted, the Reclaimers had set to planning for the assault with a focus some might have found terrifying. After all, what this deal promised was a home – was a place they could call their own at long last. One last job – one last mission – and some of them could retire to a home in a nation that was _theirs_, with their new status forcing the ICW to finally regard them as more than hired dogs or tools to be used and thrown away at their convenience.

To achieve that dream, they would do whatever it took – even if it meant killing every man, woman, and child in Wizarding Britain, much as Britain itself had once done to Statute violators, making an example of the rogue nation so that none would dare follow in its footsteps and openly break from the Confederation.

It wasn't great work, or particularly noble, but when was war ever noble? Granted, the reinforcements their client provided them with gave them pause, as they'd had no idea _how_ "Grindelwald" had managed to secure the loyalty of the last tribe of giants in the world, and the idea of working with former criminals made some of them turn their noses up, given that even the most hardened killers tended to be undisciplined amateurs at war.

Still, the very generous pay – and the fact that contact had effectively promised them Britain if they were up to the task of conquering it – were enough to put their concerns to rest, as they'd poured their efforts into training the new recruits into something that wouldn't break in battle, into ensuring the werewolves knew basic battle spells and how to integrate themselves into formations, into making sure they could work with the giants, who were not known for their intelligence or their…ability to act calmly under fire.

And then the day of the operation had come and so far…everything seemed to be going well.

Almost too well, really.

There had been no organized resistance, not even a hint of it, when their troops began their assault on Magical London, after having infiltrated the country via muggle means of transport.

No Aurors. No "army."

Not even the usual handful of unlawful combatants who insisted on fighting back.

Just civilians running around as if the end of the world was nigh – only this time, they were right, because this was the end for them. There could – and would – be no mercy, because that was had asked of them, in accordance with the well-documented precedents of history.

Perhaps Britain had well and truly been caught by surprise, thinking that the defenses they had erected to prevent non-approved outsiders from entering via magical means would be enough to stop any determined assault? Had the Ministry not thought to pay attention to non-magical means of transport, thinking them unimportant? That was foolish indeed, given the political situation of Europe as a whole, but then, in the wake of the Grindelwald Incident, the British had a bit of reputation for ignoring what happened beyond their shores.

Perhaps though…there was some sort of reaction force being assembled, just not in time to stop their advance through Wizarding London? If so, if Britain really had written off the population of its capital, then they supposed such a force would await them in the Ministry itself, or within whatever fortress city they had holed up in.

Granted, it wasn't unheard of for a Ministry to abandon its subjects, but such a thing was more often the province of Dark Lords than legitimate governments, since ensuring the safety of their people and security of their borders were allegedly two of the functions of any government.

'_But then, Britain is a rogue state these days. We should expect no more from their government than from the Dark Lords we have fought.'_

As such, they hadn't been entirely surprised when they appeared in the Atrium in groups of threes (supplemented by a multitude of inferi created on site in London), only to find that there was a thick, impenetrable darkness all around them.

"Night battle formation," Petrov, their leader for the operation, barked, with the troops scattering and hitting the ground, the officers among them drawing Hands of Glory as the inferi milled around them.

…which was when _a dragon_ swooped down upon them from above, its flaming breath a line of molten death that erased the strike leader and his squad from existence, the man's attempts to raise a shield against destruction proving fruitless.

"Dragon, a dragon! Anti-fire, now!" another barked, throwing up a spell to disguise the direction his voice was coming from. Those who had survived the first pass set to scanning the area as the Reclaimers among them reached into their robes and jabbed themselves with injection vials filled with a custom-made potion just for improving resistance to magical flames – something that unfortunately was often a necessity as Dark Lords tended to enjoy spells like Fiendfyre.

The recruits among them were forced to make do with the Flame-Freezing charm, which wasn't exactly proof against magical fire, but would provide some token resistance at least - maybe buying a second or two, enough to send a Killing Curse at an enemy.

Not that any of this meant much when the dragon appeared before them once more, this time from further back in the room, unleashing its flames upon the horde of inferi they'd assembled.

Sadly, inferi could not be shielded from fire, and so more or less...melted in the flames, with the sickly-sweet scent of burnt pork wafting through the air as the bits of fat and charred meat on them _sizzled_.

While the dragon was preoccupied with the inferi, however, seemingly perched in one place, rather than swooping forward, the squads took advantage of the moment to _strike back_, unleashing a dozen _confringo_es at its likely position, hoping to hit something important.

Sure enough, they were rewarded with a chain of very-satisfying booms, and a roar of utter fury.

They'd hit the bastard – though where they'd hit it remained to be seen. Hopefully they'd crippled its wings, grounding it.

If not, this would be a much more difficult battle, though either way, what they had to do was clear.

For the sake of their dream, for the sake of the future they wished to see, they would advance.

"Inferi forward - make for the gate. Wizards, decay curses on the inferi, then assume fortress formation. Prioritize ice spells - we have a dragon to slay!"

* * *

Shinji's blood boiled, his vision going red as he managed to _flow_ awayfrom the scene of carnage and into one of the chimneys lining the Atrium, his entire body aching from the mercenaries' counterattack. One moment he'd been cleansing the world of the filth they'd brought into it, and the next he'd been thrown to the ground, his scales and flesh sliced open by shrapnel when then Fountain of Fair Brethren exploded beneath him.

With a guttural growl, he pulled long, jagged shard out of his torso, noticing that the black stone was slick with blood.

His blood.

_**"You dare to lay your filthy hands on a dragon, maggots?!"**_ he snarled, his magic reaching out and cannibalizing the material of the chimney to fix the worst of his wounds, though it did nothing for his bruises or what he felt certain were cracked ribs. Still, he could deal with the worst of that too – all he needed was _fire_.

The boy clenched his teeth as white hot pain erupted under his flesh, as hungry flames melted bone enough that the fractured were rendered meaningless, even as cracks of light began to appear on his skin as the fire within him built, and built and built.

Pain there was. Great pain. Agony, even.

But it was fine. It all was fine.

He'd simply let the pain feed the furnace of his rage, feed the furnace of his desire to _see them all wiped from the face of the earth. _

They – those wretched worms crawling the ground – had dared to hurt him? A wyrm and a master of wyrms?

For this, there would be blood.

There would be suffering.

There would be _death._

"_**I'll kill you," **_the boy growled in a voice not entirely his own._** "I'LL KILL YOU ALL!**_"


	2. Ira Vehementi

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 2. **_Ira Vehementi_

In the wake of the draconic ambush in the Atrium of the Ministry, there had been a moment where the will of the assault team – especially those who were not experienced mercenaries who knew to expect the very worst – had nearly broken, as facing a dragon in the course of this operation had never even been considered a possibility. Fighting Aurors, yes. Fighting constructs, yes. Fighting – and turning – dementors, yes.

…but not a dragon.

Why would they? Despite the (no doubt exaggerated) stories that drifted about Russia chronicling the rampage of the so-called Master of Wyrms (which most scholars agreed had probably just been a clever wizard who'd used transfigured drakes to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies while his followers did the truly nasty work), the many attempts by Dark Lords (and Ministries!) to emulate the legendary sorcerer's alleged ability to control those fearsome beasts had only proven that the stories had merely been stories.

That it was impossible to truly tame a dragon, and for all their efforts, all the blood and treasure countless governments and scholars had poured into their work, the closest anyone had ever managed to get was to chain up one of the fearsome beasts and have it attack anyone who approached a location, using it as a particularly vicious and difficult to manage guard dog.

Given the disappointing results of this work, it was not particularly surprising that funding for research into dragon taming – much like research into time travel (and related fields of study) beyond the very limited scope of what a Time Turner could allow – had dried up.

As such, the Reclaimers had been quite confident that they would not face a dragon in Britain, for if they couldn't tame one – and no one seriously expected that they would have, if no other magical nation in the world had managed it in hundreds of years, no matter how rich or prosperous – then the only scenario where a dragon might possibly come into play was if one was chained in the Atrium, which they thought thoroughly unlikely, given the traffic that they had been told the chamber saw on a daily basis.

And yet, the moment they had entered the Atrium, they had been beset by such a beast, with its flames burning the commander of the strike force to cinders in an instant.

A beast that was not chained, but loose…and _flying_, swooping here and there about the room as it released blasts of fire that melted inferi, shattered shields, tore apart formations.

Alexander Sokolov, one of the Reclaimer veterans and second-in-command of the assault force, swore under his breath as he realized what they were facing – what the British must have accomplished _somehow. 'They…they tamed a dragon?' _If they had truly managed such a thing then…well, then there was no possibility of turning back. With a flight of tame dragons under their command, poised to strike at the Continent, the British ceased to become a mere nuisance – they were now an existential threat both to every Ministry in Europe, as well as to the Statute of Secrecy.

"Dragon, a dragon! Anti-fire, now!" he barked, throwing up a spell to disguise the direction his voice was coming from, even as he followed his own advice and injected himself with a concoction that was ironically made mostly of dragon blood. _'At least that is what Alexi the Alchemist tells me. Ironic, that.'_

He scanned the room with the light of his Hand of Glory, looking for any sign of the winged terror, though oddly, he saw – and heard – nothing.

'_But how can that be—'_

And then the dragon _appeared _out of the gloom, further back in the room, its maw opening wide as it unleashed dragonfire in a sweeping arc that ripped apart any of the inferi it touched – and a few of the wizards.

But this time, it did not get away injured, as the Reclaimers rallied their fellows, urging them to unleash a volley of _Confringo_es at the beast. _Confringoes_, not Killing Curses or other beam-type spells, because it was well known that a dragon's hide was more than tough enough to deflect most things, and well, if it moved, an explosion of shrapnel and concussive force had much more of a chance of hitting it than a beam.

…especially since most of their allies were not equipped with Hands of Glory and thus could not see through the gloom.

'_Peruvian Darkness Powder, I expect – we'll have to wait for it to settle. Can't be more than a quarter of an hour though.'_

_KABOOM!_

Surprisingly, as explosions went off one after another, there was a roar of utter fury…followed by a profound silence which made Alexander blink, because one moment the dragon had been there and reeling, and the next moment…_it had disappeared_. Not flown, not burrowed. Disappeared.

'_What on earth?'_

How could a dragon just _disappear without a trace?_

Perhaps…had they injured it grievously enough for an emergency portkey to activate, whisking the dragon away from battle?

Unlikely.

'_Some kind of invisibility spell that masks sound as well? Or are we under some kind of mental interference, twisting our perceptions?'_

There were too many possibilities. For all he knew, this was a trap, yet under the circumstances, there was no choice but to move in, come what may.

"Inferi forward - make for the gate," he commanded, seeing that the gateway to the rest of the Ministry seemed unguarded for the moment. "Wizards, decay curses on the inferi, then assume fortress formation." In the event the dragon was invisible and on the ground, the inferi would no doubt discover it, at which point the potent spells of decay upon the ones who discovered it would take effect, consuming flesh and magic both. Or well, they could explode in a gout of acid and cursed venom on command. That worked as well. But to make sure they didn't cook off ahead of time once the transfiguration and other spells were employed, well… "Prioritize ice spells - we have a dragon to slay!"

* * *

It was often said that anger clouded the mind, and that losing oneself to utter burning rage was never a good idea, for whatever power it might grant came with a steep price. Matou Shinji of course, dismissed this old saying as absurd, given that with his enhanced eyes and his experiences on the isle, he could see _exactly_ how things would unfold if he proceeded as the fire in his veins demanded.

He would **kill them** of course. For making him suffer the indignity of retreating before nameless worms, he would their bodies apart, tear them limb from limb, trample them into the ground. He would bathe their defenseless forms in fire and laugh as the _smell_ of their _sizzling carcasses_ wafted to his nose, and their _pitiful screams _reached his ears.

Yes…it would be easy, so _very easy._

He would start by _flowing _from his current position to behind the enchanted gate separating the Atrium from the small chamber where the elevators waited – locked down of course. There he would join his will with that of the earth, shifting the stone below the wood tiles of the Atrium floor to create a wall – a barrier – in front of the gate.

The curious insects would no doubt move forwards to examine it, or send their undead host against it – at which point the wall would erupt with spikes, impaling them.

Not that he was able to see too well in the inky darkness – he had to rely instead on his weak earth-sense, deciphering what enemies were doing – and what kinds of enemies there were – based on how they loped or shambled, or stood firm in something like a circle.

Undead and wretched practitioners.

They'd gotten lucky in wound him once, but it _would not_ happen again. He'd _allowed them_ one chance to strike him, and they'd taken it, so now it was his turn again, and now that they'd had their fun, he would show them the meaning of _fear_.

Well, the wand users in any case.

The undead…what did he care for mere instruments of flesh and magic such as those? Ignorant as pain as they might be, strong as they might be, shambling corpses could not possibly destroy an enchanted gate – not without the help from those who commanded them. And even if the wand users damaged the gate, brought it down…well, then all they would do was reveal what lay behind it: the two golems of gleaming metal which he'd called down from the armory to serve as the last line of defense for elevators.

Each of_ them_ was armed with a magical blade – one wreathed in shadows, and the other blazing with light – the effects of which would no doubt be hidden by the obscuring effects of the powder he'd released into the chamber – which he hoped was more than up to the job of carving through undead flesh.

The sun-bright sword which had called to him in the armory had gutted an armored practitioner (or he assumed the man had been armored anyway, since if not, he was even more a fool) like a fish, after all, and for all that the undead did not tire, they also did not wear armor – and they did not heal, so he assumed it would be a trifle to destroy them.

The blade of shadow he had less confidence in, but what use was a blade if it could not even crush a corpse?

Though…if the golems were so useful, perhaps he should simply open the gate and set them loose so that they could handle the rabble, while _he _focused on the more important threat: the practitioners of witchcraft who commanded this army.

It was only good practice to cut off the head of the snake, after all, and to cauterize the stump, just in case it happened to be a hydra or something else of that sort.

Yes…the more he thought it, the more he like the idea.

…the undead would busy themselves with slamming into his wall – and being impaled by the spikes that would erupt on contact, while he would craft yin-charged explosive ofuda as quickly as he could, and when he felt he had enough, he would open the gate and attack.

Since his foes had no idea of where he was in the dark, while he had a rough sense of their location, why not use their confusion to his advantage, letting them fly into a panic when they couldn't even see, couldn't even understand what was killing them.

Even now, they were huddling together in the way that prey animals sometimes did, in the vain hope (or perhaps delusion) that clustering together would somehow help them ward off a predator. It was silly, but humans, like all lesser beasts, often were.

He could taste it now – the terror that would spill from them as he rushed in, his ofuda flying before him as he _flowed_ from one to another to keep his attack vector unpredictable, all the while raining explosions down upon the defenses of his foes from all angles, until they lay broken under his onslaught.

And then, and _then_…he would attack, summoning the sun-bright sword from the golem to gut them all in close quarters, flowing in, slicing a few, over and over and over as he slashed their bodies apart, leaving the Atrium awash in _blood._

Yes..._yes_, it was the perfect plan, absolutely _flawless_.

...except that in that hectic melee, when he was gutting the necromancers left and right, he would be exposing himself to a bit of unnecessary risk. Not much risk, admittedly, because he knew they couldn't see him, but all it would take was one brave (or foolish) individual who decided that there was no greater glory than to die wounding a dragon, perhaps through a death curse or some such.

'_No. Unacceptable. A dragon cannot be brought down by such wretched __**worms!'**_

If such an upset to the very order of things were to occur, then those mongrels would no doubt believe that they were mighty indeed. He would not – _would never – _allow them such a thing, for that would shame his name and memory forever. No true wyrm would allow itself to be felled by such _insects…_and if he was being honest, well…it was _possible_ that the bites of those wretched ones might be…more harmful than he'd allowed himself to believe.

They _had_ wounded him, after all, broken ribs and smashed organs, hurt him when he'd least expected it. And so he could not assume that they were as incompetent as most mortals had proven themselves to be, that they were helpless, even when crawling on the ground…

'…_fine. I'll use another tactic,' _he told himself.

Worms they might be, but as the monster who had once been his grandfather had once demonstrated, even worms could bite when cornered. Or well, melt the skin and bone of a human being into a pile of sludge, which was more or less the same thing.

And these worms...well, they were surprisingly tricky for mere practitioners, as they did not flinch away from the glory of his presence, from the heat of his flames.

Mm..._flames_, yes…such a beautiful thing.

Glorious as the unconquered sun above, as the dawn finally coming upon the world after the ravages of the long night, like the fire which had burned away a layer of the world, slaying gods and beasts and man alike.

The now felt like an echo of that time, of that age of darkness...of that age of _mystery_, when warriors and monsters strove to see who would take possession of...of everything.

The age of the Great Wyrms, of the echoes of the earth, of an age where there was no good or evil, where _there was only power and those too weak to seek it_.

...alas, that age was long past, and now mere vermin had inherited the earth. Vermin who pridefully thought of themselves as Kings of the World, masters of all they surveyed when they were but mongrels lapping up the leavings of their betters from an age ago, so very proud of their feeble efforts to achieve even a pale echo of those who had come before.

One only needed to look upon their works to see how far they stood from greatness.

Upon the blade of shadow, wrought of a spirit of endless hunger bound to metal unable to contain its power, and how it was nothing in the face of the ancient blade forged by the children of the Earth that gleamed like the sun, a blade that the Auror Tonks had called dangerous simply because it had killed the fools who had stabbed himself while trying to use it.

Upon the echoes of the fey that practitioners carried, the borrowed – stolen – pieces of the earth they used to let their insignificant little gifts be worth something in battle.

Upon the automatons which wielded blades far mightier than they, shoddy imitations of things far greater.

Still, even shoddy imitations could be useful when used against merely mortal flesh, and that of the walking dead, and so…he _acted._

He _flowed_ to the gate behind which the elevators were sealed, synchronizing his will with that of the earth to raise a wall, with the precious few ofuda he'd made to latching onto it, ready to pour their contents into the barrier the moment an enemy touched it – so that they would be impaled.

"Golems…exit the sealed area…" he hissed. "We will eliminate their army, and then…we will come for them…"

The wall wouldn't last forever - he knew that - even as he felt the first corpses touch the wall - only to explode into vile clouds of corrosive power that tore at his wall, but then it didn't need to. It just needed to last long enough for his golems to get into position.

_'Fools...the moment that wall is down, my golems will swing into action.'_

And then, all that awaited would be carnage.

* * *

Alexander Sokolov had not been quite sure what to expect from sending the _inferi_ forward. He'd thought that perhaps he would expose the dragon, or at least destroy the gate, but he had not expected a wall to simply erupt out of nowhere.

Was there a wizard nearby? An invisible British agent who somehow evaded the _inferi?_ Perhaps one who was on a broomstick?

He doubted it, though he didn't know for sure. He did know that their attempts to cover the walls with _confringos_ had revealed nothing, and with his troops ensconced within a formation of overlapping magical shields reminiscent of the tortoise formation of the ancient Romans, he felt relatively secure. For now, they would see what response the inferi provoked, and if the beast the British had bound – or perhaps _created_ through twisted experiments – were to appear once more, then…

Well, that was what Fiendfyre was for, so they could detonate every single one of the cursed undead, in a move sure to slay even a dragon.

'_At least it should, theoretically.'_

There had never been the chance to test such a thing in the field, given the usual opponents they'd faced and the rules of engagement they were under.

'_No time like the first, they say.'_

* * *

The moment the wall collapsed, chaos exploded onto the battlefield, with a cloud of _ofuda_ spilling into the air as the draconic form of Matou Shinji burst into action, his body wreathed in flames as he surged into the mob of corpses, his claws tearing through their ranks with a bloody vengeance, with his golems hot on his heels.

His blood sang with the thrill of destruction as he ripped them limb from limb, tossed them into the air like rag dolls with bursts of prana, skewered corpse after corpse after corpse with threads of eerie shadow.

Had these worms _really_ thought they could threaten him with _these_? With these shambling things that the lowliest of the Children of Gaia would have scoffed at? With these pieces of…walking kindling?

The wretched fools. They were as nothing before him.

_Nothing._

...which was right about the time when the air ignited with the fury of a thousand suns, twisted beasts of fire landing amidst the countless corpses and triggering each of them to explode, with the result being some strange fusion of shadow and flame that turned half the Atrium into a window onto the face of Hell.

Around the boy, the wood of the Atrium _burned to cinders in an instant_. The stone beneath flashed to molten heat in an instant, just like his flesh and bones and nerves, with the being that called itself Matou Shinji reduced to nothing more than slag as the air, the stone, the world itself _burned_.

* * *

The members of the assault force were all but silent as they bore witness to the destruction they had wrought. Few wizards – few people – for that matter – had even been in a position to stand at what was nearly ground zero of such a titanic blast and live to tell the tale, yet through their coordination and ingenuity, they had.

"Bozhe moi," Alexander breathed, as his eyes took in how everything in the half of the Atrium in front of the great shields that his company had conjured and were reinforcing was burning.

The gate was gone, simply erased, as if it had never been.

The wood had been scorched away from every surface. The very stone of the walls and floor was molten and bubbling, with the floor on the verge of collapse. The ceiling was in even worse shape

A hole had even opened on the ceiling, through which some of the flames had escaped, with the floors above having turned into a raging inferno that would have consumed any still present.

And of the dragon, there was no trace.

"We won…?" someone spoke, seeming dazed. "Is it…is it gone?"

"It has to be…" one of the others murmured reverently. "Nothing could have survived that."

Alexander whirled about, wanting to rebuke whoever it was who had said such a thing, as one never simply _assumed _that an enemy was dead without confirmation.

But mid-movement, he froze as he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

A hand.

Not just any hand – a hand wrought of molten stone.

'_No…' _he thought desperately, hoping that the worst thing he could imagine was not about to come to pass.

Yet his protests availed him naught, as the hand was followed by an arm, and then a head…a reptilian head who seemed to look right at him with a baleful golden gaze.

_**"FOOLS," **_the monster snarledin a voice that was like stone rubbing against stone. "_**I AM FIRE!"**_

* * *

Matou Shinji was caught by surprise as a conflagration hotter than anything he'd ever known in his short existence consumed him, flames laced with malice and _hunger _ripping at his flesh, tearing at his bones, boiling his fatty tissues, charring him to cinders even as he was engulfed by molten stone.

And yet, as the heat washed over him, flowed into him, hurt him in a thousand different ways, he _welcomed _it, _breathed_ it in, let the lava envelope him even as he reshaped it _into_ him, drawing out every last scrap of prana within it to replenish his reserves and regenerate, his injuries from the curses of decay withering his body attempting to reduce him to dust over and over again, even as he remade himself as many times as it took.

For in the end, he was not something as weak and fragile as flesh and blood – _**he was fire – he was rage**_**, born from a supreme act of destruction that had crippled even a god.**

If these fools wished to kill him, they would have to do far better than they had, and as he clawed his way out of the molten chrysalis he had found himself in, spreading his wings, he found himself laughing at their folly, a sound of contempt for the scum who thought they could fell a dragon.

He looked for a moment at the wretch who was responsible for his suffering, before sending a blast of dragonfire at the man, for was turnabout not fair play?

…but his attempts were thwarted by a great barrier than apparently spanned the width of the atrium, a barrier that was absolute proof against fire.

"Hmph," the boy scoffed. So these practitioners had a fancy trick or two. No matter. It wasn't as if he had to sully his hands to bring down their vaunted shield, not when… _'Hm…that will do.'_

The golem wielding the shadow blade was mostly a pile of slag, but for all that apparently still functional, at least in that functional meant 'able to move at all.' Surprisingly, the artificers of Britain were not utterly useless when it came to creating things that endured after all. He would have to take back…perhaps one in fifty bad things he'd said about the country and those in it, since he was being generous?

No, one in a hundred, since the one wielding the blade of light was utterly ruined, even if the blade itself seemed just as bright and unblemished as when he'd first seen it.

'_Well, then, time to finish this little charade,' _the figure of molten stone thought to himself with a little chuckle, ordering the one surviving golem forward. While they kept up the barrier, it wasn't as if they could harm him, after all.

As he did so, there was a loud _pop, _as a number of giants arrived.

'_Tch. More worms. Big ones, but worms all the same.'_

They would not distract him from his true enemies – the wand-wielding wretches who had been a thorn in his side since the beginning of the battle, who'd had the audacity to raise their hands against their betters.

Those little worms – they needed to die.

Now.

Even if their little trick with fire and decay had failed to truly harm him in the end, much as their other devisings were useless before the might of a great wyrm, they had sought to end his existence, and such a thing deserved no less than death in turn.

After all, it was said the only ones who should kill were those prepared to be killed, yes? That was the rule for magi, and soldiers, and any who mattered. And he, the one carrying out the will of Britain, would be generous by showing these worms they mattered – by ending their lives _personally._

_Flowing_ forward, he scooped up the sword of light, marveling as its warmth filled him, the heat and sharpness of the ancient weapon feeling most _pleasing_ to his senses. He could almost feel the weight of its Mystery, of the history etched upon it by the blood of all it had slain.

_It's thirst for human life, born of a curse that would only be quieted by the spilling of blood each time it was drawn._

The being laughed, or would have, had he not already been licking his lips in anticipation of the slaughter to come. Seeing the last expression of these arrogant fools as the life bled from their eyes would be so very...delicious...

All the more so that what would ensure their destruction them would not be this ancient blade, not the fire of a wyrm they had rejected, but a construct wrought of mortal hands.

_'Golem. Charge the enemy position,'_ he ordered, even as he launched a barrage of fiery _ofuda_ to try and cover the approach of the lumbering, half-melted automaton, with him _flowing_ from one place to another and unleashing gouts of fire meant to blind the defenders as they impacted the fortress shield, keeping them from seeing what he was doing.

Such a distraction wouldn't last long, not against trained and disciplined forces like these, but it didn't need to - it only needed to last a handful of seconds, just long enough for the golem to arrive on scene and plunge its sword of darkness into the barrier, with magical energies hissing and bubbling at the point of contact as the sword began to disintegrate, and the golem with it, the fell presence _within_ devouring and _devouring_ anything it could touch, until at last, the shield began to _flicker._

With his lips tugging upward into a cruel smile, Matou gave the golem one final order, one it could do even when it was sparking and jerking about.

_**'Detonate.'**_

His foes had no chance to react before the blast, which even the boy had underestimated, blew everything away.

The barrier collapsed, shredded into nothingness before what seemed like the hammerblow of a War God.

And with it down, the blast wave continued, with Shinji adding a gout of dragonfire to ensure they met their end.

With his senses, Shinji thought there might have been a blur of movement, with something vanishing or being displaced just before the twin blasts of the golem's destruction and his fire hit the doomed practitioners, but it didn't matter to him, not really.

It wasn't as if any worm could have escaped this trap with apparition or one of those other pedestrian ways the westerners used to get around, but just in case something survived this…he added a _**confringo**_ supercharged by dark prana.

All he knew was that when the terrible din faded, the darkness itself had been banished, and all that remained where the merely human wretches had stood was a massive crater in the ground, one that tore clear through to the next floor, if not beyond.

The boy tried to remember exactly what was beneath him, what was below the Atrium, but caught up in thrill of battle, he couldn't recall, really.

_'They're dead. That's all that matters,'_ he told himself, though he loosed a second **Confringo **into the area below, just in case there were...survivors. Not that there would be after that, but there was nothing wrong with overkill, was there?

With that bit of pleasantness settled, he turned his focus to the giants, some of which had been knocked on their arses by the might of the explosion.

_'Right. Time to die.' _

The dragon grinned, Tyrfing held high as he flashed in, cutting, cutting, cutting, as blood spurted, beings roared, and lives were extinguished. Their armor...was useless. The resistance of their hides...was useless. Their futile struggle...was useless, as he killed and killed and KILLED, his laughter echoing through the Atrium as he reveled in the slaughter of his stricken foes.

Death. Death. _Death._ _**Death. DEATH!**_

He'd shown them. He'd shown them all. Truly, in this moment, _**he was unstoppable.**_

...which made it all the more ironic that it was at that moment that a darkness deeper than that of the powders he'd released billowed up from the floor below, with the boy feeling a sense of all too mortal terror as he laid eyes on it as it bubbled forth like an inescapable tide.

At once, the figure of molten stone sprung into the air, trying his best to get away from it, to escape what every shred of instinct within him knew would be his death, should it touch him. Almost – almost he made it to the hole in the ceiling…but not before the ceiling collapsed, with an entire floor – no several floors – of rubble raining down upon him.

He tried to dodge, and to his credit, he evaded five, six, nine pieces of stone – but it was the one he didn't see that smashed his head in, slamming him down as the darkness rose up to meet him, and the boy named Matou Shinji knew no more.


	3. The Forbidden Truth

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 3. **_The Forbidden Truth_

When he came to, opening his eyes upon a strange vista, the boy who called himself Matou Shinji found himself utterly alone, and what was more, far away from anything even close to familiar.

'_This…isn't London,' _he could tell. From where he was standing, he could see no rubble, no ruins, no signs that there had ever been buildings here, much less an entire city, only an endless expanse of black sand. But then, this wasn't some wild land either, as there was no grass, no trees, no moss – no wind. There was no trace of life here, no indication that the ebon desert wasn't all there was in all the world. No sun, no moon, no clouds – only a pitch-black sky studded with points of cold white fires.

_**A CURIOSITY.**_

The _voice_, if one could so name something he felt in his bones more than he heard, issued from all around him, reminding him of nothing so much as the slamming of coffin lids.

_'Who?_' He spun around, reaching for the fire within him, for the power that had now been _eager_ to come forth and _destroy _– only to find nothing there. The draconic might he had tapped into just moments ago to rip apart his enemies was _gone_ – and so too was the trickle of prana that he could usually draw from his core. _'What? How?'_

He willed his anger to rise, for his body to _change_ and take on a more monstrous form, as he realized he lacked his wand, but…nothing happened. His armored scales did not appear. His fingers did not change to claws. He remained completely and utterly _human. _

Had he come under attack just then, that would have been the end of the one who called himself Matou Shinji. But as the seconds dragged on into minutes and nothing happened, no ambush or explanation to follow-up on the cryptic words from above, the boy began to get rather nervous.

"Where are you?" the boy demanded, in a tone that he thought intimidating, though really, it was anything but. "Show yourself!" he shouted. "**NOW**!"

As if in response to his words, the world shook with a rumble that rattled his bones and scattered any thoughts of unruliness, and to his shock, he recognized the tremors as something like words.

_**YOU WOULD NOT REACT WELL IF I DID. **_

_'...who...?' _Such an answer unnerved Matou Shinji more than he cared to admit, though the discomfort was really only skin deep, as he didn't feel as…startled as he thought he should. Perhaps he was simply…tired, or had pushed himself too far, for he felt almost…hollow, body was but a thing of dirt, fashioned in the likeness of a man – a mud doll, as one of his enemies had once put it. "Who are you?!"

_**THE ASSASSIN AGAINST WHOM NO LOCK HOLDS.**_

Shinji blinked, trying to parse the words.

"The Assassin against...Professor Lockhart?" the boy asked, confused. "Are you the one doing this?" Was this perhaps the _Book of Spells_ or something he'd been trapped in. "If it is, this isn't funny. Where are you?"

_**NO FURTHER THAN THE THICKNESS OF A SHADOW. **_So the voice rumbled. _**WITHIN EVERY CELL AND IN THE HEART OF EVERY START AM I. WHERE THE FIRST THINKING THING CAME TO BE, THERE WAS I ALSO. WHERE MAN IS, THERE AM I. WHEN THE LAST LIFE CRAWLS UNDER FREEZING STARTS, THERE WILL BE I.**_

There was a pause, seemingly as interminable as the universe itself.

_**AND I AM NOT YOUR PROFESSOR.**_

The last bit seemed almost an afterthought, and the boy opened his mouth to retort, only for his words to die in his throat as a figure materialized before him: a grinning skeleton in a very tattered black robe, wielding a scythe that gleamed in the cold light of the stars above.

A figure of fear and legend, from which every mote of essence in his body, every cell, every atom of his being screamed for him to run.

He…he knew who, no _what_, this figure was.

The inescapable end of all things. The being – the embodied concept – that would outlive the universe itself, if only by mere moments.

Truthfully speaking, in the presence of this entity, the boy was terrified, and at the moment, he would have liked nothing more than obey the impulses _screaming _through him – only he could not, for his legs were frozen in place, just like his arms, his eyes, his diaphragm.

As he looked upon this figure, he found that his legs could not move, that he could not look away, that he couldn't even breathe.

That simply being in the presence of this entity that was beyond even the gods was enough for him to understand that the place where he now stood was no place at all, that the color of the world, the light of the stars, that his voice and the voice of the being before him were all illusions which the other allowed to exist.

That in this place, nothing was true – that everything he could see was merely…permitted.

The figure regarded him impassively, and _something_ shifted, whereupon the boy found that the pressure on his throat and chest eased, with the paralysis lifting.

"…_Death,"_ he whispered, giving a name to the skeletal figure.

_**SO SOME HAVE CALLED ME**_, came the reply, which sounded like nothing more than two slabs of concrete rubbing against one another. _**EVEN MATOU SHINJI.**_

The boy blinked.

"...what's so special about me calling you Death?" he asked. "That's what you are, right?"

_**THE QUESTION IS NOT WHO I AM, BUT WHO YOU ARE. **_

"Um…what do you mean? I'm Matou Shinji," the boy stated, though the figure before him seemed to shake his head.

_**NO. THAT YOU ARE NOT.**_

"W-what do you mean by that?" the boy questioned, his voice quavering despite himself. Truthfully, he felt the the urge to step back, to run, to cover his ears, lest the answer of the ancient entity be his undoing – though he did none of it, partially because he couldn't, and partially because he knew none of it would do him any good.

After all, the voice of Death was felt as much as heard, processed by the mind as much as by the ear.

_**MATOU SHINJI, THE ONE WHOSE NAME AND FACE YOU WEAR, DIED ON THE ISLAND.**_

"Wha...t?" the boy's mouth went dry as he heard this, the words resonating with— "No!" he denied. "No...that's not true! That's impossible!" he said, denying the statement of Death itself.

_**SEARCH YOUR FEELINGS. YOU KNOW IT TO BE TRUE.**_

"No. No. **Nonononononononononono**!" Matou Shinji screamed, a sound of terror, of hate, of denial, of rejection, for he would not, could not, acknowledge what the other was saying, and so simply wailed to drown out everything in the world. For as long as he was screaming, he didn't have to think, and as long as he wasn't thinking then…

_**IT IS USELESS TO RESIST. THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM WHAT YOU ARE.**_

Perhaps not, but Shinji tried anyway, thinking that if he could deny the truth of those words, push them away, refuse to accept them, then…then…

Then what?

For if what Death said was true, if he was not Matou Shinji...

_'...then who am I?'_

_**A QUESTION THAT FEW ENOUGH EVER THINK TO ASK.**_

"Wait I...you can read minds?!" the boy exclaimed. The stories…they'd never said anything about _this._

_**YOU SPOKE ALOUD.**_

The boy didn't think he'd done anything of the sort, though he wasn't exactly planning on arguing with Death in the latter's domain, which this place was, or so he grasped.

"...do you know the answer then?"

_**NO. I ONLY KNOW **_**WHAT**_** YOU ARE, NOT WHO.**_

"And what am I, then?" he asked. "...not that what I am matters much if I'm dead." He shook his head. "I mean, that's why I'm here, right?"

_**NO. YOU ARE HERE BECAUSE YOU FELL THROUGH THE VEIL. FROM ONE SIDE OF THE WORLD ONTO ANOTHER - YET THERE WAS NO PLACE FOR YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE. YOU ARE NOT TRULY A SPIRIT, NOR ARE YOU HUMAN. NOT ALIVE, YET NOT TRULY DEAD.**_

"Not...dead?" the boy...the being asked, trying to wrap his head around this whole state of affairs. He didn't _think _he was dead, but then he supposed no one would. "But I…I remember…"

Fire and blood.

Fire and darkness.

The falling moon.

_**YOU BEAR SCRAPS OF MEMORIES TIED TO SCRAPS OF SOUL, TIED TO THE ESSENCE OF A DRAGON, THE SYMBOLS OF A HERO'S MIGHT, AND THE HEART OF AN ELEMENTAL BOUND A VESSEL OF MUD TURNED FLESH BY A POTENT ECHO OF THE LAST AGE.**_

"Scraps of memories tied to…" the boy repeated, parsing the statement of the entity before him. "That...sounds a lot like necromancy," he murmured, raising his eyebrows. "Are…are you're saying that…I'm undead?"

_**NO. **_

But Death disagreed with his conclusion.

_**YOU ARE A STRANGE AMALGAM WHICH CANNOT TRULY DIE, BECAUSE YOU WERE NEVER TRULY ALIVE. IN THAT SENSE, YOU ARE AN ENTITY DISTINCT FROM MATOU SHINJI. A VESSEL ALIKE IN NATURE TO THE ONE HE DESTROYED, THOUGH INHERITING **_**HIS**_** WILL, NOT THAT OF AN **_

_**OUTER GOD.**_

"…I see," was all the boy said in reply. That meant…what did that mean, exactly? That he was a vessel? Something like a mud doll after all, being puppeted by whatever bits of Matou Shinji remained? But then, the rest of the sentence began to sank in. If Death had said that he could not truly die, then… "Wait...does…does that mean I can go back?" he asked carefully. "That I can return to the world of the living?"

_**NOT AS YOU ARE**_, came the grim reply.

"…what would it take then?" Shinji asked, knowing that to beg a favor from Death or any being approaching the embodied concept's level of power – especially in what must be Death's very domain – was very much a devil's bargain.

So, practitioners of witchcraft had discovered in _Tales of Beedle the Bard, _where the gifts Death provided were exactly what the three Brothers had asked for, if not precisely what they _wanted_. Likewise, those which were (un)fortunate enough to bind a Jinn to service, or who were in the practice of using wishcraft tended to get exactly what they asked for – and human beings tended to be poor at asking for what they actually wanted, as they rarely knew.

…but then, he wasn't human anymore – or maybe he never had been.

_**TO RETURN TO THE WORLD OF FLESH AND STONE, A SACRIFICE IS NEEDED.**_ The Grim Reaper intoned in a voice like the very earth tearing itself asunder, as if an…earthquake was conversing with him. **WHAT YOU WERE. WHAT YOU ARE. WHAT YOU MIGHT BECOME. THE SYMBOLS OF HEROISM YOU CARRY. YOUR CONNECTION WITH THE EARTH.**

There was a pause.

_**THE PRICE IS ONE**_ _**OF THOSE, **_Death added, almost as if an afterthought, though the very suggestion that Death could have an afterthought was utterly bizarre to the being which called itself Matou Shinji. _**IT IS NOT IMPOSSIBLE TO GRANT YOU A SECOND LIFE AS A HUMAN, BUT THIS WOULD BE EVEN MORE COSTLY.**_

The boy took a moment to try and puzzle out what Death had meant.

What he had been – that would the scraps of his human soul.

What he was – his memories, because without them he wouldn't be himself.

What he might become – this one was more difficult, though he imagined it might be the blessing that Gaia had bestowed unto him.

The symbols of heroism – the Noble Phantasms that had been left to him by Perseus – Harpe and the winged sandals .

His connection with the Earth – at first, the boy almost thought Death was referring to blessing of Gaia, but after going over what had been said, it seemed to be his earth affinity, something which had only been strengthened by having an elemental's heart be part of him.

Each of these was a terrible price indeed, representing something that he had fought and bled to obtain – and yet maybe that was the point, that _Matou Shinji_ had obtained these things, but not the collection of odds and ends which bore the name.

Even so, he wanted to ask if there was something else he could do, if there was some way he could avoid...giving anything up. After all, choosing what to sacrifice...having to sacrifice anything at all...was difficult.

...and yet, as he looked upon the figure before him, fully intending to protest, to say something to try to persuade Death, his words died unspoken on his tongue, as something gave him pause. Perhaps it was the fact that he was looking upon the literal embodiment of the concept that everything that had a beginning had an end. Perhaps it was the fact that the figure before him seemed utterly unconcerned with whatever the boy had to say – not that the boy thought he was any great shakes at reading the expression of a cloaked skeleton.

Or perhaps it was merely the fact that all his rage, all his fire, all the _power_ he had accrued over the years meant nothing here, as none of it would not respond in his hour of need.

Whatever it was, what indignation he'd mustered up fizzled out as if it had never been there to begin with.

_**CHOOSE**_**, **the Grim Reaper prompted him.

"...what happens if I don't?" the boy dared to ask. Could…could he stall for time, drawing things out long enough that Death would give him better terms?

_**YOU WILL EVENTUALLY, **_the Grim Reaper replied, seemingly unconcerned if the boy made up his mind or not.

"Are you sure you won't get tired of waiting before I do?" Shinji quipped, only to reconsider his words as Death looked back at him, the sight of the empty sockets in the grinning skull making him feel as if he was less than a worm crawling on the ground. After all, what did all of his experience, all his power mean in the face of the Ultimate Conclusion before him, that which waited for every living thing, for everything that even _existed_.

Oh, Death could wait.

More patiently than any living thing, more enduring than any work of man or civilization, beyond the span of time permitted stone or wind or the very stars, Death could wait.

Looking upon the figure of the end, Matou Shinji - or rather the being that called itself Matou Shinji – _knew _that there was no winning a stalling game with death, that even if he postponed his decision, his mind would wear out long before Death was willing to reconsider his terms, even if his body did not.

Faced with that truth, he chose.

"...I'll give up the symbols of heroism," he said bitterly, swallowing as he remembered just how it had come to pass that he – that Matou Shinji – had come to acquire it. How Matou Shinji had fought against the Echo of the Moon, pushing himself past his limits to land a single, decisive blow upon the monster – had, in Perseus' eyes – proven himself worthy of being called a hero. "Not that I know why you're making me choose," he added, unable to resist the temptation of a parting barb, no matter how foolish it might be.

But Death was ever reasonable. No doubt he had heard much worse in the aeons in which he had existed, with the dying cursing death as it approached, or those left behind cursing him for taking their loved ones away.

'_What must it be like to be something like death?' _

Matou Shinji – if that _would be _his name from now on, which he wasn't sure about – couldn't even begin to imagine that sort of existence.

_**YOU MUST CHOOSE BECAUSE THESE THINGS WERE ALL PART OF WHAT DEFINED MATOU SHINJI**_**, **the Grim Reaper explained. _**AND MATOU SHINJI IS NO MORE.**_

"...and without giving up something, I will be too close to the original to be allowed to return, is that it?"

_**AN OVERSIMPLIFICATION, BUT NOT INACCURATE.**_

"...I don't suppose I could just...get rid of the more draconic part of me," the boy asked, only for the world to rumble in that peculiar way that seemed to indicate Death being amused.

_**WERE IT NOT FOR THE DRAGON, YOU WOULD NOT BE...**_

Oddly enough, Death trailed off.

"...alive?" the boy suggested.

_**NO**_. The response was both instantaneous and absolutely certain_**. FOR YOU ARE NOT TRULY ALIVE. NOT YET. THE BEING BEFORE ME IS BUT A DOLL MOVING IN HALF-REMEMBERED PATTERNS, BELIEVING ITSELF TO BE MORE THAN IT IS. FOR YOU TO TRULY LIVE, YOU MUST CHOOSE WHAT YOU ARE, AND WHAT YOU ARE NOT, WHAT YOU WILL RETAIN AND WHAT YOU WILL SURRENDER.**_

Silence hung over the desert for a small eternity before the boy spoke, his voice almost a whisper.

"...I chose already, didn't I?" he asked, swallowing as he looked down at his feet, his hands balling up into fists at how cruel – how terrible all of this was. "I'll...I'll give up what Perseus left me."

_**WHY?**_

"Because I'm no hero, no matter what people call me." He closed his eyes then as he sank to his knees. "I'm just...I'm just..."

_**JUST WHAT?**_

"...never mind. You wouldn't understand."

_**A COMMON BELIEF MORTALS CLING TO, THOUGH THEY ARE USUALLY WRONG.**_

The being which called itself Matou Shinji looked up as he felt something stream forth from him, noting a silver wisp of something weighty that shot off towards the horizon, with the Grim Reaper turning to track its motion with its gaze.

_**THE PRICE IS PAID. PERHAPS WHEN I NEXT SEE YOU, YOU WILL BE ABLE TO ANSWER MY QUESTION.**_

"...your question?"

_**WHO ARE YOU?**_

Without waiting for a response, Death faded from sight, followed quickly by the cold stars, the sky, the endless sands, and then...even he, himself.

* * *

When he came to, Matou Shinji found himself in the air, borne aloft by a pair of slender, yet strong arms, with azure light rippling all around him, as he opened his eyes to see...

_'...an angel...'_

Or perhaps, a goddess, with eyes that seemed to glow with pale fire, and long, luxurious hair that was...silver? Lilac? He couldn't really say, only that in this moment, the woman in whose arms he was being carried was the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes upon.

…except for Sokaris.

Which this person reminded him of, save that Sokaris had never worn form-fitting black armor, nor did she possess wings wrought of light/

Sokaris..

To the boy who was not a boy, the Matou Shinji who was not Matou Shinji, the being who wasn't sure if he was awake and delirious, dreaming, or dead and being carried off to the afterlife in the arms of a valkyrie, there was only one real answer to the question of where he wanted to be taken.

_'To Sokaris...'_

For even if everything else in the world was a lie, if everything and everyone else in the world became his enemy, _she_ would be his ally. No. No, that was backwards, for was it not the other way around, that _he_ would always be _hers_. In life or in death, in sickness or in health, for better or...no, there was no for worse. She was the one whose side he strove to reach, for whose sake and in whose name he did so much, and to deny that now would be...

It wasn't something he could do.

"Take...me..." he managed to say, his voice barely a rasp as liquid fire seemed to race through his nerves and vessels. "...angel..." he settled for saying, since he wasn't sure if this was the afterlife, and it wasn't likely he was in the presence of a true goddess.

"Take...you?" the valkyr—angel replied, eyes widening fractionally, as if surprised or simply curious.

But then, that was only to be expected, since he hadn't finished saying what he'd meant to say.

Words.

Words were...they kept slipping away, much as his consciousness threatened to with each passing second. It was like all of him wanted to collapse into some dark pit in the core of his being, a pit that was both infinitely cold and infinitely vast.

"Warm..." he found himself murmuring, as he nuzzled the smooth, unblemished skin of the angel's bare arm with his cheek, with the haze of power radiating from her form seeming gentle, almost comforting, like the flames of the unconquered sun.

...the sun...

"I...I want to see..." he managed eventually. His words trailed off as fatigue washed over him, but with one last gasp of effort, he was able to break through the mental fog for one shining moment to express his intent. "...Sokaris. I…"

And then the moment passed, with the consciousness of boy-that-was falling into the pattern of a dream.

A dream of elder days, of dragons and drakes, of _fire and blood_.


	4. An Offer You Cannot Refuse

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 4. **_An Offer You Cannot Refuse_

When the boy who once called himself Matou Shinji woke up, he found himself looking up at a ceiling that was for once, all too familiar. At least he thought it seemed familiar, as did the walls, the floor and…

'_Hey, wait a minute…I'm in my own bed!'_

The shock of this was quite sobering, as it meant that whoever had found him had been friendly, though instead of taking him to see _Sokaris, _he'd been brought instead to his manor in London. To his private apartments, even, meaning they had access to them. And then they'd…uh…the boy blinked, noting his current state of dress. Or undress at it were, as other than the sheets covering him, there was nothing between his body and the cruel, cold world, not even rags.

'_So…someone – probably not Luna, since I don't think she's back from…whatever she's doing – undressed me and b-bathed me?'_

The thought of being that vulnerable around anyone who wasn't Luna was exquisitely uncomfortable, since in his unconscious state, anything could have happened to him. Anything at all. Maybe even something worse than dying, though at least he hadn't ended up as a brain in a jar, or divested of the gem that had replaced his spiritual core, so that…well, it wasn't nothing.

Just in case though, he tried to call upon his inner fire, wanting to confirm that he wasn't stuck in the land of the dead, frowning as he found his prana sluggish, like a serpent whose inner furnace had gone cold overnight, and had not yet had time to warm up in the sun.

Still, he could at least feel that it was _there_, which was more than he'd expected after his conversation with Death. It had been his second time coming face to face with an embodied concept (or perhaps his first, given that he wasn't the same Matou Shinji as the one who'd spoken with Gaia, but how much of 'Shinji's' experiences were truly his was a question for later…), and being in that place, standing before the one who was the end of all things had been utterly _terrifying_, not just because of who Death was, but because of how _powerless_ he had been.

'_I couldn't even fight him if I wanted to – I had no power in his domain. I existed – was able to think and speak and _choose_ because Death allowed it.'_

Because he had been, in Death's words, "_**A CURIOSITY**_."

A particularly unusual insect, perhaps, with Death being something like one of those schoolboys who was assigned to collect a number of specimens over the summer for homework? The boy shivered, and not just from the incongruity of picturing the Grim Reaper in a school uniform.

_'He returned me to the physical world…why? Because it amused him?'_ No, that didn't seem right. _'Because he was curious what I would become, and where my choices would lead me?' _Or had it been because, at the end of the day, Death simply hadn't cared what…the mud doll that was puppeted by the will of Matou Shinji would choose, as it was not truly a living thing, merely an amalgam of various parts that believed itself to be? _'No. Enough. I'm not going to figure out Death's motives, if something like that is even possible.'_

For the moment, he needed to concentrate on the present.

As he sat up in bed, the sheets fell from him, revealing a delicate network of scale-like markings all over his body, and two great scars in the center of his palms, looking almost like someone had slashed them open.

'_That's right…to return to the world of the living, I had to give up Harpe,' _the boy recalled, as the blade's anti-healing properties came to mind. _'It looks like it left a mark coming out.'_

Idly, he wondered if his feet also had scars from the removal of the sandals, and if so, what that would look like.

There was a word for people marked with such scars, no? Stigma? Stigmata? Stigmatics? Something like that. If he remembered correctly, they were people who had received divine favor from the Christian God, like St. Francis of Assisi.

'…_somehow, I don't think the Church would be entirely accommodating if someone like me claimed to have a revelation from…the final judge of all things. Their Executors would either kill me or…' _Well, actually, they – or the Templars – might recruit him too, he supposed. Not that he really wanted to work for them or get any closer to those particular factions, if at all possible. _'I just really hope Sokaris will understand my situation…'_

If she didn't…well, he might as well end it now then, he supposed, since his purpose for living would be gone.

'_Though would it really be suicide if I'm not really alive to begin with?' _he inquired philosophically, his lips pressing together as he began to mull over whether he really had a self to kill, only to be distracted as he finally noticed that his room was glowing.

That it was illuminated by an eerie figure wreathed in a strange glow anyway...a figure who was silently

standing by an open window and looking at the world outside. The figure was obviously female, but her features were obscured by the light, so he couldn't quite recognize who it was.

It reminded him of nothing so much as the golden light that had Elesa had been cloaked in when she allowed herself to tap into the fullness of her power. This light though, wasn't that of the sun. It was...paler, like the moonlight, which was why…

"Luna?" the boy asked, the name coming unbidden to his lips, his voice still all too frail for his liking. "Is...is that you?" Had she come back? And if so, how long had he been…unconscious? He didn't really feel any of the soreness or fatigue that he knew came with oversleeping, though he acknowledged that these were abnormal circumstances, so conventional wisdom might not apply.

"I see. That is who you wish it was," came the quiet reply, with the figure turning to regard him curiously. "But I am not Miss Lovegood."

No indeed. As the figure walked from the window to his side, the boy felt a sense of warmth in his chest as the sheer sense of power radiating from her, the prana in his body quickening as he began to feel more…human again, in the face of someone who was obviously his better, though at least it was a friendly someone.

But how could he make such a determination? He'd never met—

And then she came close enough that the boy could see her face in full, and he realized he recognized her.

"...Kyrielite," he murmured. Of course…_she _was the one who had—that was, she had access to this place, access that he'd granted her, as she was Sokaris' right hand. "Mashu Kyrielite." He'd…never seen her like this before, so powerful, so _beautiful_, shining in senses other than sight like a star in all its glory, but then, he supposed that it made sense that someone who Sokaris so trusted would have been gifted incredible powers worthy of her position. "What happened?"

"After your departure, I was given clearance from the Director to deploy to the field to assist you. However, when I arrived, the battle was already over, and all that remained was..." She hesitated for a moment. "An unstable rift linking this layer of reality to the Other Side of the World. You were nowhere to be found."

"Yet you found me. Somehow."

Had she…_had she gone in after him_?! That…no human could survive the Other Side, right…?

"I did," Mashu confirmed. "After you were ejected from the rift."

"…ejected, you say?"

"Yes. By a silver light that pushed you through from the other side and held you aloft for long enough that I was able to retrieve you."

"...and the Ministry?" he asked. "Did...did I get them all out?"

"Hm?"

The boy briefly laid out what had happened during his conversation with the Minister, and how he had offered to hold the line to buy time for those working in the Ministry to escape.

"There was no one present in the subterranean structure in which you were found," Mashu reported solemnly. "And not enough residue to account for thousands of bodies. As such, it is likely anyone above...the level on which you were found managed to escape."

"I see."

"Has your curiosity been satisfied?"

"Yes. For now," Shinji allowed. He'd done it then – he'd saved those people. Though—

"Perhaps you might answer some questions for me then?"

"About what?" The boy asked.

"You passed through to the Other Side," Mashu prompted.

"Yes?"

"And then you returned, which should not be possible for a human."

"Yes, I know that," Shinji muttered, "but what does that…ohhh. I see...you're doing something to the room. In case what came back from the Other Side isn't Matou Shinji, but something else wearing his form."

Which was somewhat worrying, as she was right. He was indeed something else wearing Matou Shinji's form.

"You are not wrong," Mashu admitted, as the silvery radiance about her grew more potent, and the boy felt his grip on his prana slip away entirely, leaving him as helpless as he had been when he stood before Death. "This room has been shifted to another layer of reality, where you cannot access your abilities."

"How...?" And then it hit him. "...I'm in two layers at once. My power separated from my will."

The young woman nodded.

"Tell me what happened," she stated, making it very clear that this was not a request.

"Tell you…?"

"Everything."

"Everything", as it turned out, was...a very expansive term, especially after he signed a self-geis contract to answer her questions wholly and without reservation, supplying relevant information if Mashu failed to ask about it for the duration of the session.

It covered what he could remember of the isle: his fight against the Echo of the Moon, his encounter with an Outer God, his negotiations with the Americans over rights to the potions he'd developed.

It covered his relationship issues: how he had...kind of been a bit too presumptuous about his relationship with Luna, how the relationship he had with Tohsaka Rin was somewhat…complicated – a status exacerbated by experiences he'd had in the Trial of Courage, how even now it was Sokaris he placed above all others, and even if it cost him everything – even if the very world became her enemy, he would be her ally.

"…in a sense, it did cost me everything," he whispered, shaking his head. "I died on that island, facing down the merest fraction of an Outer God's power. Facing something like that, I did what was necessary to end the threat. That day, Matou Shinji ceased to exist, and I was born…" He looked down. "But I'll go back to that – there's still a lot to cover."

He told her of his conversation with Minister of Magic, and how he'd mentioned Sion to him as the Greatest Alchemist in the World, descended from the one who had taught Nicholas Flamel, and as the "sister" of Sialim Sokaris.

"Unfortunate, but not outside the bounds of expectations. Continue."

And so he did, speaking of how, to avoid facing the consequences of his actions, he'd made a rash vow to hold the line against an army alone to buy time for the employees of the Ministry to evacuate.

"You said I managed it…"

"It is likely, yes," Mashu agreed. "Tell me of the battle."

He proceeded to do so, laying out as best as he could remember how he'd fought against an entire army of mercenaries and monsters, perhaps losing a bit of his composure in the process.

Well. More than a bit.

This account was followed by the details of his encounter with Death, in which the embodied concept had revealed that he was in fact no longer Matou Shinji - that Matou Shinji had died on the island - as well as what he had given up to return to this side of the World.

"I thought I was just...that my nature had just shifted, but to learn that I'm not actually myself anymore?" he trailed off, shaking his head. "I think I did the right thing?" he asked, feeling uncertain and honestly, exhausted, since they'd been talking for hours, as he reflected on his choices. "I mean...even if Sokaris told me to do my best, but to survive, I had no choice but to take that thing down with me. "Because that is what she would have me do – because that is what she would have done in my place, though I'm sure she would have managed to do better." He sighed. "Still, whatever the reason, I'm not Matou Shinji anymore. Just an empty shell that inherited his memories."

He held up his hands, looking at the scarring on his palms, and skin ridged with a scale-like pattern.

"Death said it himself. That I'm a '_strange amalgam which is not dead because it was never truly alive_,'" he repeated tonelessly. "The combination of a scrap of soul, a dragon's essence, a hero's gift, and the heart of an elemental within a vessel of mud. Well, I guess without the hero's gift now. Which is only fitting, because I'm no hero. I'm just a mud doll. A thing of dirt."

The real Matou Shinji...perhaps _he_ had been a hero.

After all, _he_ had done incredible things, like face the First Jinn in battle. Like fight (and cripple) the Echo of the Crimson Moon for the sake of a girl. Like sacrifice himself to stop the avatar of an Outer God.

Yes – even if that Shinji – the one whose memories he'd inherited – had failed to follow Sokaris' instructions, and had in fact _died_, he had still done great things.

Much unlike the golem that now wore his shape, whose would have died facing a bunch of jumped up practitioners of witchcraft if he'd actually been alive.

"...so, you're right in the end. I'm not Matou Shinji. I'm just a thing wearing his form, just like you feared," he admitted with more than a little self-loathing, after his thoughts had run themselves down. "Only I wasn't born on the Other Side, but on the island. Somehow." He shook his head. "What will you do with me, now that you know?"

"Hm?" Mashu responded.

"You know, since I'm nothing but a monster," he said, waving...vaguely at himself. "I mean, look at me. Here, in this light, I couldn't even hide what I am if I tried."

The agent of Atlas regarded him evenly, as if weighing just what he wanted – needed to hear.

"It is true that you cannot hide what you are," she said after some indeterminate amount of time. "That you are a new entity, no longer bound by any of the contracts you agreed to prior to your death – unless you chose to be," she supplied eventually. "And, so you chose."

"Eh?"

"You chose to trust me, to trust the Director – and her agents – as he did. You sought Miss Lovegood, as he did. You attempted no deception, hid nothing of your nature – much as he would have. You hold to the same words he did – that even if the world became her enemy, you would be her ally."

"...was this...was this a test?" the boy asked, blinking as some things fell into place. "To see...what I was?"

"Not to see what you were, but who you were," the agent of Atlas corrected. "For only you can choose whether or not you want to continue as Matou Shinji - to honor what he honored, to love what he loved, to carry on his dreams."

"…you already knew what I was."

"From the moment you appeared in the house after returning from the isle, I was aware of your...changed nature," she confirmed. "That the you who returned from the Other Side was not the you who left the house, this I also knew."

"W...hat?" the boy croaked, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. "B-but ho—"

"Currently, I control the defenses of your house," she said matter of factly. "Everything that was set up by your former Master. Through them, I can sense who belongs and who does not – who is given access and who is not."

"Yes, I gave you that access, but—" Matou Shinji's words died in his mouth. "But if I'm not me…then how do I have—"

"You do not," came the response. "Rather, you did not until I granted you limited access."

"Oh." The boy went absolutely still for a moment as the ramifications of this sunk in. That he was now a guest in the very house he'd bought. "So then…I…"

"Spiritually, you are not enough like him to be recognized as the owner of this place."

"I...but then..." No, that wasn't right. No, it...but if it was...

_'Shit...I had an account at Gringotts.'_

Among other possessions and belongings that were technically registered to him, like his ownership in various businesses. Granted, the business bits weren't magically enforced in Japan, and he suspected that with fusion to worry about, they might be better setup to treat people who had...changed as the same individual, but with the stuff in Britain...

_'...that would be...so everything I've put into the bank, I can no longer get, because they don't recognize me as me?!'_

That...

"You have other concerns?"

"I...I just never really thought about how dying could...be so inconvenient," he muttered, before breaking into hysterical laughter at the ridiculousness of that sentence.

Of course, he'd never thought about the inconvenience of dying. He'd been young - arrogant – careless, and he knew that no one ever came back from death, so why would he concern himself about that unless he had to? The only time he'd had to think about death was when the Championship was looming, and they'd asked him to write up a will...

_'...right. The will.'_

A will that had left everything he owned in Britain to Luna Lovegood.

'…_this is going to be awkward,' _he realized, cradling his head in his hands. _'I'll have to tell her...won't I?'_ he asked himself. _'But if I do...what if she gets angry? What if she takes my words and then...'_ What if she took everything from him - as she could, legally? After all, none of what had owned in Britain really belonged to him anymore, because it had been Matou Shinji's...and Matou Shinji had willed that upon his death, those assets were supposed to go to Luna. _'Though I guess Britain wouldn't know quite yet, and they wouldn't unless I tell her and she tells them…'_

It was tempting, very tempting, to just avoid that whole mess, but…

'…_she deserves to know,'_ the boy resolved, knowing that it was the right thing to do. _'After everything she did for…Matou Shinji, it would be disrespectful if I didn't at least tell her what happened to him, and why I'm not…the person she loved.' _Yes, he loved her still, but…it wouldn't be fair to her if she didn't have a choice whether to accept what he'd become.

The boy raised his head, but the agony of the moment writ clear across his face.

"Well...you tested me – what else did you find?" he asked out of more than idle curiosity, wanting to distract himself from his thoughts.

"That you aren't Matou Shinji," Mashu replied succinctly. "In some ways, you are like him - in others, you are not, and more to the point, you haven't entirely decided who you are. You are insecure, broken, confused...which is understandable given what you learned. You need time to figure out who you are and what you want."

"I..." the boy swallowed. "Sokaris. I want to reach her side...that's all..." That was all he - no, all Matou Shinji had ever wanted. But what did he want? "I..."

"Take this year and figure out who it is you want to be," Mashu stated, not unkindly. "I will be there to help, but only you can figure out who you are, what you want, why you are here - when the original is gone, and where you will go from here."

"And...I guess I have to figure out what...everything means for me and...everyone else."

"Yes," the Agent of Atlas said. "I will help how I can. As for the Director, she believes what will best help you are the tools to think through things – to better understand yourself."

"Tools..?"

"Thought acceleration and mind partition, both of which the Director has authorized me to teach you."

"S-she has?" the boy found his back straightening, his eyes widening. He swallowed. Those techniques…weren't they restricted to Alchemists of Atlas? "I...she...you would agree to teach these things...to me? Even though I...I am not..." Or…could it be? "Am I being accepted as an Alchemist then? W-will I be going…to Atlas?" His voice was hushed, reverent as he spoke the words, scarce able to believe them.

But Mashu shook her head.

"Not this year," she corrected. "The Director wishes for you to learn these skills first."

"…and figure out who I am, of course," he accepted, unable to hide the disappointment from his voice. "I understand, but…what will I do then?" he asked bitterly. "I can't attend Hogwarts, with what Britain has become. I could go to Beauxbatons, or Durmstrang, or to _Mahoutokoro_, but..."

...would he even fit in going to school?

True, wherever he went, people would respect him for being a Champion – and at _Mahoutokoro_, for being able to actually offer some competition to Sajyou-san, but...was that something he had the right to be proud of, really? All that he'd achieved had been due to luck – and the ingredients and knowledge that the real Shinji had acquired.

"If that is what you're concerned about, then there is someone downstairs who has an offer for you."

"Downstairs?" But...the only other person in the house was Tohsaka, right? And what could she possibly offer him? Her virginity? No…it couldn't be that, since Mashu had expressed her disapproval of that the first time around. "Who...?"

"One of your Professors," Mashu supplied, with Shinji sitting up as he tried to process this. A professor who wasn't at Hogwarts? "He was concerned about you, and came to the house to inquire as to your well-being in the wake of the battle of London, as it is being called."

"He…?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart, former professor, adventurer, and now First Citizen of Albion."

* * *

When Matou Shinji went downstairs after taking a long shower and changing into the outfit he'd obtained from the Americans, which was a sight more comfortable – and appropriate for a conversation like the one he was expecting than his birthday suit, he did indeed find Lockhart, though he also found that the man wasn't alone.

The First Citizen of Albion, whatever that was, was dressed in an outfit much like the formal robes of the Stone Cutters, was seated in the dining room, sharing a cup of tea with a spellbound Tohsaka Rin as they discussed the various exploits of Matou Shinji, be they his ingenuity in the various scenarios the man crafted for him, his valor in facing down a horde of giant spiders, or some of the more notorious stories about him from the year, involving his time at Durmstrang, the island and more.

"Yes, he has accomplished much for someone his age," the man reflected. "It is quite something to count him as one of my more promising students."

Rin of course, was no dummy and didn't miss the implication of his words.

"Then there are others just as skilled?" she asked, finding it hard to believe that there were others just as promising – or more so.

"A few, he admitted," Lockhart admitted, "though none get themselves into quite the...positions he does."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that while Matou is certainly talented enough to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, often enough, he wouldn't be facing the jaws of defeat in the first place if it wasn't for one of his prior actions," Lockhart explained. "It is well and good to be able to deal with things when your back is up against the wall, but finding one's back against the wall is unfortunately all too common with Matou. Even as skilled as he is, this is an issue, since all it takes is one time when you are not skilled enough, not fast enough, not clever enough, to fall – especially with no one to watch his back..."

"No!" Rin exclaimed, with Lockhart raising an eyebrow as the girl stood from the table and slammed her hands on it. "I mean...he's not alone," she added, her face reddening as she sat down. "I...he has me."

"Oh?" Lockhart inquired with some interest, raising an eyebrow. "If anyone, I rather thought he had Miss Lovegood," he pointed out. "You _have_ met her, I assume?"

"Y-yes, but…he promised to walk beside _me_!" Rin exclaimed, bringing one hand to her chest. "To watch my back - just as I would watch his," she said, looking away.

"And have you?"

"Have I…?"

"Have you been there, to watch his back when he is in danger?" the man asked mildly. "From what you've said, you've diligently kept to your studies while he has been out there, risking his life. With all due respect, Miss Tohsaka, your actions don't seem to be those of one of his trusted comrades."

"I..."

"Or am I wrong, Mister Matou?" Lockhart asked, turning around a moment before Rin heard a sound.

She turned, only to see Mashu leading a rather frail and exhausted-looking Matou Shinji down the stairs. The sight of this, of Shinji leaning against the maid, his arm wrapped snugly around her shoulders, seeming exhausted and dazed, set off alarm bells in her mind, as her thoughts went wild, her imagination seething at what it imagined must have transpired above.

Matou was…wearing something different this time though. A rather dangerous looking garment, -something like a catsuit covered by a trenchcoat, with…_was that prana leaking from it?_

What kind of outfit?

'…_is that whole thing some kind of Mystic Code?' _she found herself wondering, struck dumb by why he needed such a thing just to come down the stairs. _'WHAT WERE THEY DOING UP THERE?!'_

Even as she was gaping at the two of them and how _shameless _that hussy of a maid was being, _Mashu_ helped Matou over to a chair and eased him down into it, before moving to stand behind him supportively, with Rin looking between the two, wide-eyed.

She longed to simply rush over to him, or to demand to know what was going on, but...she couldn't, not in front of a guest.

Not with Mashu watching her every move either, those eyes looking at her as if they found her wanting.

"Matou Shinji. It has been some time," Lockhart greeted, while Rin was still deciding how to react.

"Mashu said you had an offer for me, Professor?" the boy stated bluntly, not in any mood to deal with the Assassin's usual circumlocutions or lectures. "Or is it '_First Citizen_' now?"

"Technically, First Citizen, though you are welcome to simply call me Mentor."

"I'll pass, thanks," Shinji grunted, shaking his head. "The offer then, First Citizen?"

"Down to business I see," the man noted. He glanced over towards Rin. " Miss Tohsaka, if we could have a bit of privacy...? As pleasant as your company has been, I'm afraid Mister Matou and I have some delicate matters to discuss."

"...do I really have to have to leave?" Rin asked, looking at Shinji plaintively. "I...I promised to walk beside you. Are you...making me go when…" She glared at Mashu. "when _she_ doesn't have to go?"

"I...no, I'm not making you..." the boy's trailed off as he felt a treacherous stab of guilt, as her words echoed those of the Tohsaka from the Trial of Courage. "You can stay."

"...thank you."

Tohsaka beamed at his response, with a smile seemingly bright enough to light up all of Shinjuku, making the boy swallow as he remembered another moment from that Trial, remembered how she'd looked at him just before—

"So, the offer, then?" he said brusquely, trying _not_ to think about the various…aerobic activities that had followed.

"Very well," the man acknowledged solemnly. "Matou Shinji, given what you managed at the Ministry, I would like to extend an invitation to you to join the Home Guard of Albion as one of its first squad leaders."

"Albion...?" Shinji muttered. He knew that this was an old name for Britain, but why was it coming up now?

"Ah yes, that's right - you don't know," Lockhart said pleasantly. "The short version of the story is Wizarding Britain is currently divided into two factions. One of course is controlled by and loyal to the Ministry. The other is attempting to remove Britain from the Ministry's influence, as it believes the Ministry to be an illegitimate government, which has failed to uphold the social contract in many, many ways, with the last straw being how it abandoned every citizen in Magical London to die, without even so much as attempting to save even a single person."

"These…rebels," Shinji surmised. "They call themselves Albion."

"Yes."

"With you as First Citizen," the boy grunted, shaking his head. "…I remember you once said you wouldn't mind that the Minister of Magic job. So you finally obtained the position."

"Well, the position is more like that of a Chairman of a Council of Magic, than a Minister," Lockhart corrected, with Shinji's eyebrows rising expressively. "Still, I admit there are some similarities."

"I see," the boy said, trying to fight the urge to rub his temples. So far, he was winning. So far. "Who was behind the attack, if you can say?"

"Publicly, it is believed to be Grindelwald, given that he appeared in London. However, a mutual…acquaintance of ours tells me that the one behind it was a certain...Voldemort."

"...this acquaintance wouldn't happened to be named Peverell, would it?"

"Why yes, yes, he would be," the man said easily, the corners of his lips pulling upwards. "He has been quite an asset in training the goblins for war."

"Goblins…?"

"Well, _someone _had to repel the army of inferi, giants, and dark wizards," Lockhart explained reasonably. "They didn't all attack the Ministry, you know."

"…I see."

"In any case, Grindelwald is dead. The wraith of Voldemort, however - that, unfortunately escaped."

"Grindelwald is...?" the boy blinked. He frowned. "How?"

Lockhart only smiled.

"No..." the boy breathed. "That..."

But the tension was broken as Tohsaka fell out of her seat, with all three people in the room turning to look at her, one with disapproval, one curiously, and one with surprise.

"W-wait, so you're like a Prime Minister or something?" she goggled, as she picked herself up, her face utterly red with embarrassment. "And you...you came to visit Matou? To give him a job?" She swallowed. "You…you told me you were one of his professors!"

"I did not lie – I was one of his professors," the Assassin said simply. "As for the position, I never asked for the title, but it seems I bear its burden, yes," he admitted. "And so, having found myself in this position after...organizing the defense of London, I find myself looking for good help."

"And you think I'm 'good help?'" the boy asked, almost scoffing. "When you already have a goblin army and Tomas?" He shook his head. "I'm just an above-average practitioner of witchcraft."

He was no diplomat, nor did he enjoy paperwork, so why did Lockhart want him around?

"Is that what you call single-handedly holding back an entire army so that nearly every employee of the Ministry could escape to safety in Hogsmeade?" Lockhart inquired sharply. "Being of little use?" His laugh had a bit of an edge to it. "Truly you are funny sometimes – and not always because you try to be."

"How do you…?"

"Well, even if Miss Kyrielite hadn't told me, it is all over the papers," the First Citizen stated. "The Hero of the Ministry, they are calling you."

Rin looked at the boy with wide, worshipful eyes, seeming awestruck by Shinji's deeds – especially when the next words out of his mouth weren't a denial.

"…they must have managed to evacuate many more than they thought they would if the newspaper is calling _me _a hero," the boy asked, with Lockhart inclining his head.

"Oh, they did. The log in the Department of Transport shows that much, even if the rest of the Floo system has been shut down," the man stated. "Perhaps one in thirty died? The rest are alive, thanks to you."

"I...that's great," the boy sighed, bemused by the fact that the Ministry actually was allowing the papers to portray him as being heroic. "I'm glad." He paused then, realizing that perhaps saying this in the presence of the head of the anti-Ministry faction of Britain was...not actually a wise idea. That in fact, it was probably a bad idea.

At least, it would have been, had the leader been someone other than Gilderoy Lockhart.

"I am as well, frankly," Lockhart agreed unexpectedly, with Shinji looking at the man in surprise. "Human lives are a precious thing in a country that has already suffered so much." He shook his head. "Which is why I come to you with the offer of a commission. The public currently thinks of you as a hero – even if one with monstrous powers. As such, I would like to bring you under my banner, to reassure people in the areas I control that they will be protected, even if they do not agree with me – or with Albion. That should something threaten London once more, you will be there to stop it."

"I can't do it alone," the boy replied at once. "Even holding back those people. Those giants...it almost destroyed me. I came face to face with Death, you know?" The boy swallowed, shaking his head. "Protecting an entire city, or more...? How...?"

"Well, I'm not asking you to do it alone," the Assassin noted reasonably. "As a squad leader in the Home Guard, you would command a group of individuals whose abilities would complement yours, so that hopefully the whole would be greater than the sum of its parts."

"Ah, but—"

"You have seen how a group can do much more than a single individual," Lockhart continued. "And if you are asking why I wish to recruit you when I have a goblin army, well…one can't use that army for everything."

"Is this one of those PR things?"

"Indeed," the man agreed. "They're worse at it than even you are – which is quite an achievement, I must say. And for some of the things I have in mind…they're not entirely suitable. Most of them anyway."

"I would get to choose my own squad?" Shinji inquired.

"Yes. I am happy to suggest members for you, but I will leave the final composition to you."

The boy nodded. If he didn't have that much, he wouldn't want to join, but with that concession…

"What's in it for me then?" he asked.

"Besides a very generous stipend for you and your squadmates, courtesy of the goblins?" Lockhart inquired, with a slight smile. In his experience, if someone asked about compensation, it means they were basically amenable to what he had in mind. "The chance to learn leadership in a very practical setting. Specialized training in…a number of exotic arts that I would not grant otherwise. And of course, the chance to make something of yourself, beyond any accolades you may feel you don't deserve. To learn who you truly are and become all that you can be."

The boy nearly flinched at that last line.

"When I was young, Matou, I was much like you," he added, his voice almost subdued. "Someone who was ambitious and clever, but who never quite fit in Britain. Who never thought of himself as good enough. It was why I sought validation from so many others, stirred up so much trouble. But one day, the old man who would become my mentor offered me a chance to become something more. To make something of myself," he related. "What do you think I did?"

"You took a leap of faith."

Lockhart paused, momentarily surprised by the exact turn of phrase Shinji had used, but recovered quickly.

"I did indeed. Doing that – learning what I did from that experience, it changed me. Were it not for his offer..." the man sighed. "Who knows. Perhaps I would be no more than a fraud today, taking credit for things I did not do, and floundering as I tried to convince the world around me that I knew what I was doing – that I was perfectly in control." The adventurer shook his head. "I'm making you this offer not just because you would be useful, but because I think you could use it. Because I think you find yourself in a place similar to where I was, many years ago."

"Oh," the boy said, trying to digest this piece of information. He...he had trouble believing Lockhart had ever been like that – had ever been insecure about himself or unsure of what he wanted, but...he didn't think the man was lying. "And who would you suggest for my squad, if I were to take the offer?"

"Well, Hilde of course - she would be useful for a variety of things, given her nature," the Assassin noted. "And—"

"Me!" Rin interjected, with all the others in the room turning to her in the wake of her outburst. "I mean...let me join you?" she added in a very small voice. "I...the last time you went away by yourself...when you said you might die I...I didn't know what would do. I had nightmares. Terrible nightmares. Please...let me go with you. Let me stay by your side, Matou..."

The boy looked to Lockhart, who seemed to shrug.

"As I said, I would leave the final composition of the squad to you, so the choice is yours."

"Please?" Tohsaka pleaded. "I'll...I'll do anything you want, so..."

"...I'll take the offer," the boy said, not really feeling like he had a choice, not when Mashu had implicitly endorsed the man earlier by suggesting the offer was something that could keep him busy over the next year. That, and he truly was in a bad place right now, so if the more experienced adventurer could help, he would take what he could. "And yes, you can join me, Tohsaka."

The boy was surprised to learn that it was in fact possible for someone to squee with delight, when Tohsaka essentially launched herself at him, hugging him tightly – so tightly it made his ribs hurt.

"Oh thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthan—"

Tohsaka's squeeing was interrupted by a cough, with the girl looking up to see Mashu looking at her disapprovingly. Realizing her position, the Japanese girl turned very, very red as she leapt back, almost as if burned.

Lockhart, seeing these antics, only sighed.

"Miss Tohsaka, was it?"

"Y-yes?"

"How would you like to be paid?"

"P-paid?"

"Yes, paid. Mister Matou has an account with the goblins, so we can simply do direct deposit, but what about you? We could open an account, set up a credit line for you, offer you payment in kind, or pay in something more tangible."

"More tangible?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Gold, precious jewels...Miss Tohsaka, you are drooling."

"Oh, I'm...I'll take what Matou does?" she said, flustered. "Or let him decide for me."

"Very well. Matou, if you could come to my office in Vertic Alley at your convenience, we can finalize these arrangements. Failing that, I can leave a copy of the paperwork at Gringotts, as they are running…I suppose it would be Sapient Resources for Albion."

"Not _Human _Resources?" Shinji asked, only to feel dumb for asking as he realized that with a goblin army, not everyone would be human.

"We have humans, yes, but they are nowhere near a majority," Lockhart replied. "In any case, once this is formalized, we can arrange to get you paid, and I can send you off on a mission, hm? For now though, I unfortunately have other business to attend to, so do think about who you might like to work with, and either owl me with any requests, or have the names of who you want to work with in mind when you visit."

"Requests? How would I..." He frowned. "I don't actually know that many people who aren't at Durmstrang."

"Well, I will show you some dossiers if you come to the office," the man quipped. "As for everyone being at Durmstrang, why don't you let me handle that, hm? I have to make some use of the goodwill I've gained from slaying Grindelwald in single combat, hm?"

"…single combat?" Rin echoed. "B-but you're a…"

"A professor? A politician?"

"Yes! How—how is someone like that?"

"You'll find, Miss Tohsaka, that people are rarely defined by a single position or title. Try to keep that in mind over the course of your assignments. It might just keep you alive."


	5. With Nothing to Lose

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 5. **_With Nothing to Lose_

Though he'd accepted Lockhart's offer, the boy who called himself Matou Shinji began to have second thoughts immediately after the man left, given that Mashu excused herself to let him "catch up with Miss Tohsaka" soon after, and in the agent's absence, his…new subordinate? Colleague? squadmate began to pester him with irritatingly simple questions.

Questions like what exactly "Wizarding" Britain was, what Ministry the "First Citizen" had spoken of and why Matou was that Ministry's hero, and what this business about armies of giants, goblins, and wuch was about.

'_What was Lockhart thinking?' _he asked himself, wondering why the Assa—_First Citizen_—had permitted t— _'No. That's not it. He did say the final composition of my squad would be up to me, so…what was _I _thinking?'_

He knew what he'd been thinking quite well, of course: that Tohsaka was familiar to him, in a world that had become so strange, that as an Average One, she had a great deal of potential, and that as someone already used to following his instructions, it would take less to earn her respect than nearly anyone else he worked with.

The trouble was, she knew nothing about the world he worked in and the dangers he faced, except the highly sanitized, even idealized drips and morsels that he relayed to her every now and then to make himself look good in her eyes.

…that, and with the exception of whatever hell his former Master had put her through, he was pretty sure Tohsaka had never really been in a life or death situation before, and while she probably knew the basics of how being a magus was to walk with death, he was unsure of how much martial training she'd had.

'_She's soft, and not _entirely_ in a good way…'_

Granted, there was a not-so-small part of him that enjoyed how she gushed over his accomplishments, especially once they moved to the couches and she sidled up to him, claiming it was cold, allowing him to breathe in her scent and enjoy the softness of her form, the back of his hand just so happening to brush her curves, but…

…whatever _enjoyment _he was deriving from the situation was quickly being outweighed by her lack of even the most basic bits of knowledge about the world he'd been part of for nigh on _four years_ at this point, a world that was every bit as dangerous as that of moonlight, even if the dangers were not quite so obvious at first.

To her credit, the girl was at least willing to listen as he explained how, to the best of his knowledge, the descendants of the European fey had largely gone into hiding during the bloody war between the Association and the Church, forming a hidden society that did almost everything with spells, treating the thaumaturgy not as a science or a tool to reach the root, but as something as mundane as electricity was for modern society.

Well, perhaps not electricity, since they saw magic as their birthright, something innate to them, not something they invented, with the use of it being as natural as walking or breathing, with wands being something like a walker or cane to help them support themselves, or some kind of apparatus to help them breathe in a very smoggy, polluted world.

"They need wands to do any sort of thaumaturgy?" Rin asked, blinking as she took in this piece of information. Wands and other amplifier-type Mystic Codes weren't uncommon among magi, as they made casting faster or more efficient, but no self-respecting magus would ever _require _such a thing to use their abilities. "Even single action spells?"

"Single actions spells are almost all of what they do," Shinji explained, shaking his head. "Compared to the average magus, a…practitioner of witchcraft is not especially powerful, but that doesn't mean they're weak either."

"What do you mean?" the girl inquired, tilting her head. If they weren't powerful, didn't that by definition mean that they were weak?

"First, there are a great many practitioners – many more than there are magi. There were thousands of them in Britain alone. Which might be the reason they're weaker, since there is a fine balance between belief and the number of people drawing on a single foundation, but…," the boy replied with something like a shrug. "That said, even if the average practitioner is less powerful than a magus, their – _our _spells tend to be more efficient and versatile," he added with a smile.

Tohsaka stiffened at this, remembering too late that Matou wasn't a magus, but one of these practitioners.

"Oh, but—"

"Yes, magi can become richer, more powerful than practitioners of witchcraft, using their thaumaturgy to create familiars, to weave bounded fields, to enact grand rituals on a scale that most practitioners couldn't even dream of, it's true," he admitted with a wry twist of his lips. "Coming from Fuyuki, we both know that."

No practitioner of witchcraft would ever be able to craft something like the Holy Grail, after all, given the deep knowledge of the metaphysical world needed for it, as well as the sheer amounts of power.

"But?"

"Practitioners of witchcraft use their arts for everything. And while they're limited in what they can do, that doesn't mean they can't be very good at it." He shook his head. "They have tricks of their own they can use, and if you aren't familiar with what they can do – if you underestimate them, well, being stronger or more magically capable isn't a guarantee of victory." He paused for a moment. "Well, unless you're one of the Wizard-Marshals, I guess."

Emiya Kiritsugu, the infamous Magus Killer, had made a career out of proving that the weak could defeat the strong, taking down any number of more capable targets, including no few vampires, rogue Philosophers who had escaped a sealing designation, and Lords of the Tower. He'd even won the last Holy Grail War, so…

"I see," Rin noted, but Shinji could tell she really didn't. Perhaps a more…_hands-on_ approach would be needed, so he could make not just with her mind, but her body, understand how dangerous what she had signed up for really was.

"Hey," he said, leaning close to her as she made something like a sound of contentment. "Mashu will probably be back soon, so why don't we go somewhere a little more private."

"Hm?"

"There's something I want to show you…something I can't explain just with words," he began, before glancing over at her again. "Um, you don't mind a bit of sweating, do you?"

"N-no, not at all!"

"Good – then if you're willing, I'll show you what it will be like under me. Are you?"

"Y-yes, anytime!" the girl nearly squealed, her cheeks flushed, her breathing quite labored. "P-please. Make a mess of me."

"Well, if you say to, Tohsaka," Shinji muttered dubiously.

Tohsaka Rin would shortly have reason to regret her words, proving that in wisdom, there was much grief, and one who increased knowledge also increased sorrow.

* * *

About half an hour later, a panting Tohsaka Rin lay on the ground of the training area in the basement, her unfocused eyes seeing nothing but a blur of light and shadow. Her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, and her chest heaved as her lips parted to suck in strangled gulps of fetid air. Her reserves were utterly spent.

Her limbs limp and weak – unable to move at all.

She was sore and aching all over from how rough Matou had been, how he'd pounded her relentlessly, how his rod had jabbed her over and over again, piercing through her weakness yet drawing things out until her inexperienced body collapsed from exhaustion from the fruits of his…experience.

Now, stripped of her clothes, of her control, of her strength, of _anything_ that would let her resist, she was helpless – more helpless than she'd ever been in her entire life. The only time that had come close was when she'd fought and lost against the creations of her dirty red Master, but here it was just Matou who…

"Ma…tou," she gasped, as she noticed a vaguely person-shaped shadow kneel over her, blocking out the actinic glare of the lights above. "So…rough…"

"Yes, I was, wasn't I?" the shadow – Matou – responded, not even breathing hard in the wake of their…encounter. "I guess I'm used to my partners being more…experienced. Your first time, then?"

Tohsaka only closed her eyes and nodded slightly, her body flushing red from the embarrassment of having failed to live up to his expectations.

She'd practiced by herself, of course, and had other, less strenuous encounters with people like Kohaku, but they hadn't gone nearly as far as Matou had. Kohaku had overwhelmed her, yes, but with a sort of speed that couldn't be human, and she'd been merciful enough to finish her off. Matou though…

"I…yes…"

"You need practice, Tohsaka," the shadow said, its tone a mixture of indifference and disappointment. "If you can't handle me using only the tip of my staff, how will you endure whatever other techniques I may have prepared?"

The girl shivered at that, recalling how brutal the boy had been, how he had led her about, playing with her body, _punishing_ her, proving how much she had to learn and leaving her a breathless, crumpled heap of limbs.

"Why…?"

"Why?" Shinji echoed. "You asked for this, didn't you? You told me to 'make a mess of you.' So I did." He sighed. "I thought you could take it. Sadly, I thought wrong."

The magus tried to say something, but she could not, as a wave of exhaustion washed over her, the last bits of energy she had guttering out.

* * *

Matou Shinji looked down on the unconscious, barely-clad body of Tohsaka Rin, surprised to note that he felt only…disappointment, with not a flicker of lust or desire. For all her vaunted might, for all that she'd once been someone he'd idolized and set on a pedestal, the reality had fallen pitifully short of what he had imagined.

For most of the spar, he'd willingly conceded the initiative, allowing her to choose how and when to attack while he merely defended or counterattacked, using the superior reach of his staff, or his ability to simply _flow_ behind her and strike to his advantage. He'd been prepared to face what he knew of what she could do, whether it was martial arts (because you couldn't hit what wasn't there), gandr, or her A-rank gems, and had taken the possible threat she posed seriously.

…even then, he had expected some sort of epic reversal that would put him on the defensive, some trump card that would take everything he'd learned or practiced to counter, if he even could, but…that never materialized.

In the end, her efforts had been meaningless, and he'd beaten her using nothing more than the tip of his staff, with Tohsaka being unable to predict the blows, defend against them, or even hit him.

Even when she'd thrown an A-rank gem at him, a jewel that had erupted into a conflagration capable of consuming a(n unwarded) house, his staff had simply absorbed the flames – as had he, since fire only healed him, now with what he had become.

'_To think that Tohsaka stood no chance at all…I never would have imagined it.'_

That said, he couldn't just leave her passed out on the ground like this. That would be rather ungentlemanly of him.

'_I guess I'll get you cleaned up.'_

The tub was big enough for two, after all.

* * *

That night, Matou Shinji found himself at his desk, drafting a letter to First Citizen Lockhart, given that he'd thought of something: with his newfound fame (or infamy) as the "Hero of the Ministry", perhaps it would be better served if he had some sort of disguise when he went to Magical London, so he wasn't ambushed by the media or by people with…excessively strong opinions on his actions.

While he was sure he'd saved many people due to his actions holding off the forces of Grindelwald at the Ministry, would others appreciate that, he wondered? He liked to think so, but it was obvious even to him that he was not the best judge of how other people reacted to his actions – especially now that he was no longer human.

'_Though I can't really use that as an excuse, can I?'_ he mused, remembering how he'd been criticized for being bad at the public relations game even before he'd lost himself in fire. _'And now I'm supposed to lead a squad?'_

He'd never really formally been a leader, except perhaps as a figurehead for the Ourea. He'd been a champion and allegedly a hero, but actually having a position of authority over someone was unexplored territory for him. Granted, one could say that he'd led Pansy and Rachelle Lestrange into the howling wastes to confront a rogue _tanuki, _but that hadn't been him leading them as much as all of them agreeing that something needed to be done.

And well, even if could be considered leadership experience…he'd almost gotten everyone killed because he'd underestimated his opponent, something that he seemed to do with depressing frequency.

'_Can I not pass this cup to someone else?' _

Let someone else be a squad leader, while he simply served and followed orders? No…Lockhart had requested him specifically because of what he had done as the "Hero of the Ministry", so he couldn't pass it off to someone else, no matter how much he would like to. Besides which, learning how to be a leader was probably a skill Sokaris would want him to have as a future Agent, much less as someone aspiring to stand by her side.

As a Director of one the Three Great Branches of the Association, _she_ was a leader, which meant that this was a trial he needed to overcome if he wanted to reach her side, or even continue to be worthy of having a place in her thoughts – or her heart.

With the hand he'd been dealt in life, that was truly something as difficult as obtaining the Grail– though if he supposed that a card-based analogy wasn't quite the best one to use here, since the Heart suit was originally "Cups" in the tarot deck – meaning, the Grail.

'_Well, either way, I can't run from this, no matter how much I'm leery of it…of choosing whose lives I want to be responsible for.'_

If it were up to him, he'd want to see what Luna had to say, since she was always reliable, and more than a match for him, but his lover – well, the lover of Matou Shinji – hadn't returned from her excursion to the East.

Or perhaps she had while he had been unconscious, and Mashu hadn't mentioned it.

Either way, she wasn't here, so he couldn't consult her, couldn't ask what she was thinking. Did...had she figured out that he wasn't the person she loved? Had she learned how he was but a pale imitation of a man, a doll who had once believed itself to be the boy it replaced?

_'I guess it wouldn't be too hard to guess that from everything I've already told her, huh?'_ he wondered, as his mind drifted back to the island and their...fight. The moment she had just left him behind, left him alone. When he'd learned just how badly he'd screwed up.

It hadn't been a pleasant revelation.

But then, very little about most of the revelations he had come to lately were particularly pleasant.

'_Requests…'_

Honestly speaking, he didn't really have any idea who would be willing to join him, or really, to serve as an agent of a government which might not even have diplomatic recognition yet.

For now, all he had to work with was a too-eager Tohsaka, who didn't seem to understand the dangers of the world and how this was not a game. Powerful as he had believed her to be, desperate to please him as she was, she would have died had she fought in the Battle of the Ministry – something he knew far too well. Still, it wasn't as if he could just sideline her either, not when he had already accepted her into his squad.

That would break her, and he didn't really want to do that if he could help it.

Perhaps she might be more useful working as a crafter? He had obtained some patents for her use…though technically, those patents belonged to the company owned by Luna, so _he _had no legal right to offer them up to her. He didn't want to think Luna would object, but with how upset she'd been with him before, perhaps it was better not to take any unnecessary chances.

'_I guess Tohsaka's talents would make her useful as a prana battery, since some of my abilities are rather draining, but…'_

No. Doing that would be taking advantage of the girl, and would probably go over…poorly with both Luna and Mashu.

'_And the last thing I need is for Mashu to write a bad report about me to Sokaris…' _On some level, the lilac-haired girl seemed to have an issue with Tohsaka, and until he found out what that was, he didn't really want to jeopardize his future with Atlas. Or his housing situation, giving that since his return from the isle, the wards no longer registered him as the owner, meaning that the agent of Atlas could technically evict him from the property at any time. _'Things used to be simpler…'_

But then, if complications were the price of growing stronger, so be it.

'_For now, I'll finish drafting this letter to Lockhart. There's a lot I need to discuss with him in person before I go further down this path.'_

The issue of how to deliver the letter was an interesting one, since Tohsaka was unconscious so he couldn't just borrow her mechanical owl, and it wasn't as if he wanted to go to Diagon Alley alone so.

'_Maybe Mashu can think of something. She's…far more reliable than I am when it comes to things like this.'_

More reliable than even he predicted, in fact, given that when the lilac-haired girl came up to his quarters later that night to help guide him through his mental exercises, she brought with her a package containing a writing pad that was apparently linked to a counterpart (the other half of which had been given to the First Citizen), as well as an outfit that she said would help him pass by unnoticed.

"What is this?" he asked, noting that for something that was meant to go unnoticed, the outfit was rather attention-grabbing, consisting of an elaborately embroidered double-breasted jacket made of black velvet, matching gloves and slacks, a blindfold, and boots.

"A disguise," the Agent of Atlas explained.

"How is this supposed to be a disguise?" the boy asked dubiously. "It seems like it would draw a good deal of attention."

"It would, especially if you put on the blindfold – which isn't exactly a blindfold."

"Oh? And what is it then?"

"Something to protect against the effects of Mystic Eyes and other negative sight-based magecraft," the young woman explained. "The inward-facing side will allow you to see what is on the other side, while filtering out the…negative effects. Incidentally, it will turn your hair white."

"Huh. Interesting," Shinji noted. "So…something like the instant death effect from meeting a basilisk's eye?"

"Yes. The jacket and slacks will also serve to negate most single-action spells cast against you, as well as protect you from more mundane damage."

"…very useful, but it still doesn't strike me as much of a disguise. It stands out too much for that," Shinji noted.

"It is useful because it stands out," Mashu countered, with the boy blinking at this.

"Mm?"

"You will draw attention, but it will be a black-clad white-haired figure who draws attention, not Matou Shinji, as Matou Shinji has never seen the need for disguises," Mashu explained.

"Ah, that's…" Now that he thought about it, that was actually a rather clever way to go about things. "Thank you." Though speaking of the design… He frowned as he looked more closely at the pattern on the jacket. "The pattern seems almost familiar."

"It was made based on the one created for Miss Tohsaka," Mashu explained, with Shinji nodding.

That would explain it, yes.

"You should write to the First Citizen to arrange a meeting time," she continued. "Atlas will be happy to subsidize transport for you when the time comes."

"…and what exactly does Atlas get out of the rise of Albion?" he questioned, knowing that the Moonlit world didn't often get involved in the affairs of practitioners of witchcraft.

"The research conducted by the Department of Mysteries," was the response. "Or what remains of it after the near destruction of the Ministry building."

Shinji blinked, not seeing what they could offer that—

"…you're after their research on time, aren't you?" he murmured, eyes widening. "Is Sokaris…?"

But Mashu said nothing further about the matter, moving onto their lesson about the practicalities of thought acceleration, and how to make most efficient use of the technique


	6. Fortunate Meeting

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 6. **_Fortunate Meeting_

Having received an item which would allow him to hide his identity, Matou Shinji headed to Magical London the next day, intending to both go to Gringotts and get a look around at how things looked in the wake of the battle Lockhart had told him about.

Even having been warned though, it was a shock to see Diagon Alley in ruins, with buildings smashed to rubble, gutted by flame, or twisted by magic into odd shapes. This…he'd heard about the assault on London from Tonks and from Lockhart, but what that _meant _had never quite sunk in until now, when could see the devastation with his own eyes.

Flourish and Blotts, the store where so many people bought their textbooks, was gone, with only shattered, charred timbers marking that it had ever existed in the first place.

Quality Quidditch Supplies was but a caved in storefront, with most of the things it used to sell removed.

Eeylops Owl Emporium…he hoped the owls had gotten out of there before the building had caught fire, because burning to death was a fate he didn't wish on anyone or anything. Well, maybe except for his enemies, toward whom he felt very little pity.

And there was no sign of Ollivanders at all.

But even so, there were people about, witches and goblins both tending to business, with some having set up carts to sell their wares, some laboring away on work crews helping to rebuild some of the more communal structures, and a few – students, he thought – even bringing a bit of color to the ruined heart of London.

Probably students from the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts, he supposed, given that they seemed to be performing the Fountain of Fair Fortune, one of the old standbys of British Drama. Having seen one such production at Hogwarts, he wasn't that enthused himself, and so just walked on by on his way to Gringotts, where one of the goblins took him down to the vaults – specifically to Vault 76, which oddly enough, contained no stacks of gold, no sacks of gems, no crowns, no artifacts from across the sea or much of anything really.

In fact, aside for a table, two chairs, and a cabinet of some kind, the vault was completely empty, with the main oddity of the room being that the walls glowed with a soft white light, cool to the touch, and never bright enough to be blinding.

"Huh…I've never seen anything like this," the boy muttered.

"You would not have," the goblin – Graplock – responded. "It wasn't made by the likes of wizards."

"By who then…?"

But Graplock said nothing, merely gesturing for Shinji to take the seat with his back to the door – which he did, as he didn't want to antagonize the goblin.

"I will return," the goblin noted shortly after that, before walking off, with Shinji thinking that Graplock was just going to remain at a respectful distance until he heard a rumbling and whirled about to see the vault door sliding shut with a dull _clang_.

'_He…that goblin locked me in!'_

Was…was this some sort of trick? Had the goblins decided he was too dangerous to live, sensing his true nature, or—

Before his thoughts could descend to anything worse, the door to the cabinet swung open, with none other than Gilderoy Lockhart stepping down from it. He closed the door and stepped back, only for it to swing open again, with a white-haired young woman stepping through.

The First Citizen wore a robe of copper threads, while his companion wore an elegant black dress that came down to mid-thigh, as part of a set with stockings, thigh-high boots, and…a surprisingly familiar blindfold, a twin to the one he wore.

"I recognize that dress," Shinji noted, with Lockhart nodding.

"I would be surprised if you didn't, considering it was manufactured by your fashion house," the First Citizen said dryly. "Well, not the blindfold, but the rest anyway." Gilderoy Lockhart chuckled. "Mister Matou, allow me to introduce you to my assistant, Miss Emilia."

Shinji rose as the white-haired young woman approached him and extended her hand. Perhaps she had meant for him to shake it, but the boy took it and raised it to his lips as he bent.

"Enchanté, mademoiselle," he murmured. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"And you, Mister Matou. The First Citizen has told me much of your exploits."

"Only good things I hope."

"You may do so if you wish," was the cool reply, which didn't actually make Shinji feel very comfortable as he stepped back, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

"Now then, shall we be seated?" Lockhart inquired. "I believe you have some questions for me, and it would be a terrible thing for me to ask you to remain standing all day."

Questions? Yes - Matou Shinji certainly had questions. Questions like who the other person in the room was, as he wasn't acquainted with any busty white-haired beauties. Questions like the extent of Atlas' involvement in the rise of Albion. Questions like how long Lockhart had planned on this rebellion, and why the man thought that a Japanese teenager_, of all people _was the right choice to lead a squad in Albion's Home Guard.

Speaking of which - what exactly _was _the Home Guard? An elite combat unit? A ceremonial formation? ...glorified bodyguards? What would his duties be? Exactly how many people was supposed to command? ...and of course, was there some kind of training program, or was all going to be "on the job training?"

If it was the latter, and this was supposed to be some sort of elite combat unit, he would have to ask the Assassin to reconsider, since in her current state Tohsaka wouldn't survive a battle.  
_  
'She wouldn't be bad fighting a magus, since her fighting style is built for speed,' _the boy noted, closing his eyes. _'She focuses on single action spells provided to her by her Crest, with her gems letting her use more powerful abilities without any incantation. The problem is that if we end up fighting something - or someone - it probably won't be a magus.'_

Against reasonably skilled practitioners of witchcraft, such as those he had fought in the Atrium, she wouldn't have a speed advantage.

Against dementors or acromantulae, her reliance on single action spells would probably get her killed, given her lack of knowledge regarding their weaknesses.  
_  
'Well, not that even I can fight off a dementor easily - maybe I should teach Tohsaka how to craft _ofuda?' Given her family's background with embedding energy into items, she probably would have a leg up on some other students. On the other hand...the fact that gems all had certain attributes that would _stain _the energy stored in them meant that she could largely skip the process of shaping energy. _'Well, I'll think about it. For now, to the questions...'_

"If I'm being honest, I do have a few," the boy responded, shaking his head even as Lockhart gestured for him to take a seat. "There aren't enough chairs for all of us, sir, and I would be a poor gentleman if I sat while a lady stood."

Gilderoy Lockhart raised an eyebrow at this, but nodded at his reasoning.

"A fair point, though unfortunately, these chairs cannot be duplicated."

"Why not?"

"They are wrought entirely of goblin silver," came the reply, with Shinji's eyes widening as he considered just what he'd been sitting on.

"…that…that has to be worth a fortune."

"Not to goblins, but to wizards, certainly," Lockhart agreed. "If you wish to stand, I suppose I won't stop you. Miss Emilia, did you feel the need to sit?"

"No, sir."

"Very well," the Assassin noted, seating himself on one of the two chairs. "Your questions then?"

"Well, my first question is…what exactly will I be doing as a squad leader in the Home Guard?"

"Mm, yes, I suppose I wasn't entirely clear as to your duties, responsibilities, or who you would be reporting to," the First Citizen mused aloud. "Albion splits its forces into two major branches - the Albion Liberation Force (**ALF**) and the Home Guard. While both branches ultimately report to Albion's Wizard Marshal, their mission profiles are rather different, with the Liberation Force being the sword to the Home Guard's shield."

"The Home Guard's...shield?"

"To put it plainly, the Liberation Force will be tasked with defeating the Ministry, suppressing their forces and taking their territories," Lockhart explained. "The Home Guard, on the other hand, is meant to protect territories we already control against internal and external threats."

"...so we're more like Aurors than an army then?" Shinji asked, his eyebrows rising as he heard this.

"In a sense," the First Citizen acknowledged. "Though that doesn't mean that you won't have to deal with hostile forces. After all, one of the Ministry's main objectives no doubt will be to recapture London, or failing that, to destroy it, keeping it out of our hands."

"Why...?" the boy asked, going over what the Assassin had told him in their last conversation. "Wait...does this have to do with...legitimacy?"

"It does indeed, Mister Matou," Lockhart agreed, seeming slightly surprised that the boy had realized this. "Albion's reason for calling the legitimacy of the Ministry as a government into question was that it abandoned its capital - and its people - to the mercy of an invasion force, without even making a token effort to defend the helpless. In their absence, we - an alliance of goblins and...individuals like myself - drove back the invaders, saving what and who we could, and declaring ourselves the new, legitimate government of Britain. For if the Ministry, after all the freedoms it has stripped away, and all the power it has claimed, could not - or would not - protect the city that has been its capital for hundreds of years, then it does not deserve to rule." The man's expression hardened. "We will not make the same mistake they did. Mistakes, rather."

"I see. Then my squad..."

"Your squad - First Squad - will be assigned to the defense of the capital, freeing up Liberation Force members to head north for the campaign against the Ministry," Lockhart explained.

"I see."

"As Squad Leader, you will be responsible for the general well-being of your squad, for ensuring that their performance is up to an acceptable standard, for requisitioning equipment or supplemental training to make up for deficiencies, and of course, for carrying out operations which are assigned to you."

"These requisitions..."

"Will be paid for by the Government of Albion of course," the First Citizen noted. "So long as you can justify what you are asking for."

"Not a bad deal," Shinji murmured. "I may have to take you up on that soon, given that my one extant squad member requires...some training to get her ready for what we might face."

"Ah. I suppose she's better versed at fighting magi, being one herself?" the man asked.

"That's..." the boy's eyes flashed as he glanced over at the First Citizen. "...you know about magi." He paused. "But I guess you would if..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "You're not just a normal practitioner, are you?"

"I think we both know the answer to that, Mister Matou."

"Right. Well, she needs training - someone to get her up to speed on the basics of this world of ours. I'll do what I can myself, but-"

"You're not longer sure what's common knowledge for both worlds, and what you only assume is common knowledge because you have been among us for so long?"

"Well. Yes."

The Assassin chuckled.

"I'll make a note of your request for Spectre Mudbutton - the local ALF Commander," Lockhart said. "He might have some ideas. Anything else?"

"Well, I would like to know who I could recruit," Shinji said after a moment. "Since I don't think a two person squad would be all that useful for...anything, really."

"Hm. Well then. Emilia, would you kindly...?"

The white-haired woman nodded, tapping the side of her blindfold twice, lightly, as a few...documents appeared in his field of vision, projected onto the back of his retina by the blindfold he wore.

Scanning them quickly, he saw that they contained information on **Draco Malfoy, Andreas Tornquist, **a** "Green Goblin" **and**Emilia** herself.

"Huh. I didn't know Draco's was a proficient healer," the boy murmured, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline as he skimmed the personality profile and known history for the blond boy. "...or that he was one of the people who treated the victims of the Quidditch World Cup."

"Treat is perhaps a strong word," Lockhart corrected. "Triaged, mostly."

"...he saw Cho Chang die because her parents wouldn't let their daughter be treated?" Shinji asked, a faint undertone of horror slipping into his voice. "Is this right?"

"It is. It is one of the reasons he has become...sympathetic to our cause, as my apprentice tells."

The rest of it, including his ability to create a spear of light, and how he had defeated Fred Weasley, was..._interesting_, but not quite as impactful as the rest of what he'd read.

"...why exactly do you recommend him for my squad?" Shinji asked quietly. "He seems like he'd work better with Pansy."

"Several reasons. First, your squad needs a healer, and you are more familiar with what yang abilities can and cannot do," the Assassin explained. "Second, he _is_ the Minister's son, so having him in a visible role as both a partisan of Albion, as well as a defender of London, alongside the boy who covered the escape of the Ministry's employees, will make it harder for the Ministry to tar us all as 'monsters.' Third...you need someone who is more familiar with the politics of Britain than you are to advise you about various faux pas and such, so you don't go on committing them."

"...noted," Shinji said, as he moved onto the next file, the one on Andreas, the youth known as the Raven Commander, listing his achievements, his abilities, and... "Won't it be a problem getting either Draco or Andreas into my squad, considering both are still at Durmstrang?"

"Not as much as you think," Lockhart noted. "Durmstang has an expedited graduation program for those offered relatively prestigious postings. As a school which exists to teach martial magic, it only makes sense that it supports the ambitions of those seeking to make a career out of what they learned, yes?"

"...I suppose," the boy agreed. "And Draco?"

"I can't say much before things are finalized, but we are in talks with members of the International Confederation about the repatriation of British citizens loyal to the legitimate government."

"To the..." Shinji blinked. "Either the ICW really doesn't like the Ministry, or some other nation has recognized Albion as the legitimate government of Britain."

"Not bad."

"Would you mind if I asked which it was?"

"Both, as a matter of fact," Lockhart said, with the boy fighting to keep his jaw from falling open in shock. Thankfully for his dignity, he succeeded, barely.

"...might I ask which countries?"

But Lockhart shook his head.

"You will find out when that becomes relevant, Mister Matou, though I will say that one of them wishes to grant you their nation's highest honor - the Sacred Order of the Lake."

"The Sacred Order...of the Lake?" the boy echoed, not recognizing the award. "Never heard of it."

"I wouldn't have expected you to," Lockhart said reasonably. "Would you care to continue looking through the dossiers?"

Shinji grunted, but did so, quickly finding that the Green Goblin was an artificer who specialized in explosives and mechanisms, as opposed to the usual enchantments, and that personality-wise, he could be somewhat difficult.

"...what exactly is an artificer?" he asked Lockhart, as he'd never heard of the term before. "Something like a smith?"

"You will have to be briefed about goblin culture in more detail soon, given that the goblins are an integral part of Albion, but for now, what you need to know is that crafting is a core part of their society," the Assassin explained. "Every goblin is expected to have some level of skill at creating beautiful and functional items, with the best of the goblin-smiths being given the throne when a King resigns or dies."

"Kingship isn't hereditary?"

"No. They have no goblin nobility, and do not put any stock in blood as a reason for ruling," Lockhart continued. "What matters is the respect they command through their works."

"Huh. And artificers? Where do they fit?"

"They don't, exactly," the Assassin noted. "The title of Artificer is rarely awarded, and then, only to goblins who have completed a great work that might advance goblinkind as a whole. One of the historical Artificers, the one they will talk about with closer associates, was the one who invented the process by which goblin-silver is created and shaped. There are others - the one who worked out the process of embedding runes into metal."

"...so...they are paragons of their race?"

"Yes, considered greater even than their Kings."

"...I think I'll pass on him, then, if it's all the same," Shinji said after that.

"May I ask why?"

"...with all due respect, I'm not sure it would be a great idea to have the Green Goblin working for me, given his position in goblin society," the boy reasoned. "I'm not sure he would follow orders, especially if he considers them...foolish."

"Fair enough," Lockhart allowed. "And what of Emilia?"

"Haven't read her file yet, but she seems competent and dutiful from what I've seen of her so far," Shinji quipped, proceeding to open up the final dossier. Apparently, Emilia worked with Lockhart as an infiltration and close personal protection specialist, with a talent for mimicking the mannerisms and abilities of various targets. In fact... "...she...uh, you use her as your body double?"

If there was a note of incredulity in Shinji's voice, that was because the assertion seemed improbable, given that Emilia was a busty young woman and Lockhart was neither busty nor a young woman. That and their features didn't look remotely alike, contrary to Tohsaka's grumbling about white people all looking the same.

"What can I say? Being in two places at once is sometimes a useful ability."

"But...how?"

"Did it slip your mind that there are ways by which a person might transform into another?" Lockhart questioned. "I _did _give you some vials of Polyjuice for Christmas, did I not? Which, I am told, you used to transform yourself into one of your fellow Champions, a young woman if I recall correctly. You even achieved some controversy by killing someone while wearing her shape."

"...right. I guess that makes sense," Shinji said reluctantly, as he continued to read about Emilia and the various things she had done. "Magical energy absorption? Skill duplication?" The boy blinked. "You're quite talented, Miss Emilia."

"Thank you," the busty young woman said quietly, but otherwise did not react.

"She has been quite a valuable operative, and one I think you would find quite useful as well, especially if you are learning how to construct cover identities for your own use. A disguise is meaningless if your mannerisms and actions betray it, after all," Lockhart noted. "Ordinarily, I would hate to part with her, but given First Squad's charge, I thought it might be a better place for her."

"Would you be interested?" Shinji asked, turning to the young woman.

"I would not mind."

"But you're not particularly keen?"

"One assignment is much like another. So long as my skills are being used effectively, and I am respected for what I can do, I do not mind where I go," Emilia stated, her voice quiet but professional.

"Then if you don't mind, I would very much welcome having you in my squad," Shinji said smoothly, with the young woman nodding.

"Splendid," Lockhart said, with a hint of a smile. "I had thought you might say that. Mister Matou, that is about all the time I have today. Miss Emilia has contracts for you and Miss Tohsaka to sign, and can provide more details about your squad's first assignment. Incidentally, since you will be squadmates, you may as well go home together and begin to get use to one another."

"Wait. _What_."

"I believe your residence is quite capable of accommodating guests, yes?"

"Well, yes, but-" The boy trailed off as something occurred to him. "Did you change your mind about recommending Hilde?" he asked.

"No."

"Then why didn't you let me read over her dossier?"

"Ah, but I did," the First Citizen replied, with Shinji having a sudden premonition of doom as the man said those words. "You not only read it, but invited her onto your squad, right, Hilde?"

"It will be an interesting experience working with you, _onmyouji," "_Miss Emilia" said with a curtsy, as Shinji's eyes went wide.

"No...I...that...that is..._you tricked me_, Professor!" he exclaimed, his control leaving him for a moment as… "Why?"

"Because I am aware of how poorly your interactions with Maeve went, Mister Matou, and I did not want that to influence your impression of Miss Emilia," Lockhart explained reasonably. "Aside from the omission of her alias, the dossier was correct. Indeed, I will personally attest to Miss Emilia having been an invaluable help to the cause of Albion."

"I see." Shinji took a moment to consider this. While he didn't particularly appreciate the deception, given that he thought himself capable of making his own decisions, it was true that if the dossier _was_ accurate, Hilde - or Emilia - or whatever name she went by - had a number of useful talents in areas he lacked. That, and if he went about changing his mind now, after having just invited her to join his squad, it would make him look indecisive, weak - unable to accept the consequences of his own decisions. "Thank you for the clarification. The offer stands, if you will accept it, Miss Emilia. My apologies to you and to the First Citizen for my outburst."

Perhaps his words were a bit stiff, but it was the best he could manage on short order.

"In that case, I expect you both to work together for good of the nation, whatever differences you may have had in the past," Lockhart note mildly. "I trust that will not be too difficult for either of you?"

"...no, sir," Shinji responded, with Emilia nodding.

"Good. Miss Emilia, do make sure to fill Mister Matou in on the details regarding his squad's first mission."

"First mission? Already?"

"Ah, did I not mention it?" the Assassin questioned, with a quirk of his lips. "For your first task, you are being deployed to the Wizarding Academy of the Dramatic Arts, where you are to serve as a protection detail for Miss Hermione Granger, a high-value asset who has agreed to run Radio Free Britain."

"Wa—_Hermione?! As in—"_

"Indeed, as in the one who was formerly at Hogwarts," Lockhart confirmed. "Under normal circumstances, I would have relocated her, but she refuses to leave the grounds of the Wizarding Academy of the Dramatic Arts, on the basis that she does not deserve special treatment, and is like any other student."

"There's more to the mission than just protecting her, I take it?"

"Yes. I will let Miss Emilia tell you the details, but your objectives, other than keeping her safe, are to persuade her to move to a more secure location and accept a permanent bodyguard."

"I...we don't begin immediately, do we?"

"You have...two weeks to prepare, so the groundwork may be put in place."

"Very well, sir. It will be as you wish."

"I certainly hope so, Mister Matou. For all of our sakes."


	7. Mission Improbable

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 7. **_Mission Improbable_

As he made his way back toward the entrance of Diagon Alley with Hilde - _Emilia_, rather – the boy who called himself Matou Shinji found his mind troubled by a number of questions. Some of these involved the specifics of the mission that Lockhart had assigned him, since from what he could remember of his third year, he hadn't exactly parted with Hermione Granger on the best of terms, and Tohsaka, ah…

'_She and Granger will probably get along about as well as a burning oil slick on a stormy sea.'_

Which was to say, the flare up would probably be very visible, very destructive, and amount to nothing good in the end, especially if Tohsaka didn't realize – or couldn't grasp – the value of having the press (and propogandists) on their side. Which was likely, given that he himself hadn't much cared about public opinion when he was a Champion, just doing what was right.

In his capacity as a squad leader for the Home Guard, however, that might not be possible. After all, it was rather hard to protect people if they didn't want to be protected. In that sense, reputation mattered quite a bit.

'_I suppose Emilia will be helpful in navigating these strange waters,'_ he mused, glancing at the busty white-haired young woman. _'She seems to know what she's doing if Lockhart trusts her and has recommended her to me. Though even if I'm willing to put her past aside, I have no idea how _Tohsaka_ will react to her…'_

He suspected that part of that would depend on how the _tanuki _acted towards her, though another part…well, she already seemed rather unhappy towards Mashu for some unknown reason, and he couldn't think of any reason she would dislike the kind and competent Agent of Atlas.

With regards to the _tanuki's_ behavior though, given how the youkai's demeanor as _Emilia_ was quite different from how she had been as _Maeve_, he wasn't sure he really had enough of a grasp on her personality to know what she would do in her current state.

He didn't know what she had been through between the time of her defeat as Maeve and the present, aside from what little he had read in her dossier. The last he'd heard, she had taken the name of Hilde, to replace Maeve, but why was she now _Emilia? _

Was it the name of the person whoseappearance she was borrowing this time? Was it an alias she'd chosen for herself? Was she now Lockhart's familiar, and no longer Pansy's? And given that she was apparently an infiltration specialist, why had she chosen such an eye-catching form, instead of something more…nondescript?

…of course, that last bit might just be Lockhart's influence, given that the Assassin did seem to enjoy using his good looks (especially that award winning smile) to win people over, or his striking appearance to distract them from the various intrigues.

'_I wouldn't have thought he was plotting all of this with how…visible he seemed at Hogwarts, but maybe that was the point. No one would expect Gilderoy Lockhart, the adventurer and storyteller of conspiring with the Goblins to overthrow the Ministry, though he must have been for quite a while.'_

Whatever else he was, Matou Shinji wasn't exactly an idiot, and so he knew that an army capable of repelling a force like the one that had hit London didn't come from nowhere, especially not if it deployed in good order, and apparently had enough of an internal structure that it didn't simply amount to Lockhart's personal forces.

'_For goblins to accept a practitioner of witchcraft as their marshal – I can't imagine how much negotiation must have been needed to make that happen.'_

The boy couldn't imagine the extent of the backroom dealings that must have taken place for the goblins to not only support this endeavor, but essentially go all in on it. What had he promised them? And how could he have…

'…_ah. I suppose that's when a body double would have been useful.'_

_Though…how long had Emilia been working for Lockhart?_

It could only have been a few months at most, given the timing of when he, Lestrange, and Pansy had subdued her, meaning that Lockhart would have had to find other ways to sneak off for meetings, unless he had…

'_Wait. The Wizard Marshal…who might that be?'_

That had to be a long-time associate of Lockhart if the Assassin trusted him with command of Albion's military forces, but that name…who would choose such…

'…_someone familiar with the Tower, or the titles assigned to high ranking magi who led the Association's armies.'_

Someone who was ambitious, someone who no doubt was a fiend in battle, who—

'…_it's Tomas, isn't it?' _The boy almost groaned at this. Of _course,_ the puppet created from a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul was involved in a plot to overthrow the Ministry. That…he supposed it was a given that Tomas would be amendable to such a scheme, though the fact that the puppet hadn't insisted on taking the leader position was interesting.

Perhaps in his time with Aozaki Touko, the puppet had become more comfortable with not being in charge of things, so long as he had a given role? Or had there been some promise Lockhart had made to him as well?

'_Though that goes back to Hilde too, and what her relationship to Lockhart is that he would trust her as a body double? I wonder…what information about his plans is she privy to? And what has he promised her – or what hold does he have on her – that she would join a side in what will probably end up turning into a civil war?'_

Perhaps the biggest question, however, was why she was willing to go from being one of Lockhart's most trusted agents to simply joining a squad led by…someone with no command experience whatsoever.

'_Especially when last I remember, she didn't really like me. Probably still doesn't, actually.' _He frowned, glancing over at the young woman again. '_Is it the mission, then? Or…is there something else going on that I'm not aware of, but should be?'_

"You have questions?" the young woman prompted, noticing that the boy kept looking over at her, and not to focus on her figure. "If so, you might as well ask. I might even answer, if you're cleared for the information."

"...you could tell?" he asked, raising an eyebrow – not that she could see that, due to his "blindfold." "And what's this about being cleared…?"

"First, humans aren't that hard to read," Emilia answered, her tone perfectly neutral. "Especially when they have many things on their minds. Secondly, even if you are a Squad Commander, that does not mean you are privy to all of Albion's secrets, Commander." She paused. "Or mine," she added after a moment.

"You don't much like me, do you...Emilia?"

"I don't see how my feelings regarding you matter particularly," was the response. "Unless you'd like me to have some special feelings for you..._Commander_?" she added, almost as an afterthought, a hint of sultry heat and wicked promise leaking into her voice. "After all, I can be _anyone_ you want me to be, a fact that my former..._maste_r often took advantage of this for his own ends, as you know."

"I...no, that…that wasn't what I meant!" Shinji answered, his face flushing beet red at the insinuation. He took a moment to compose himself, carefully avoiding her eyes – or looking at her rather curvy figure. "Will...will it affect..." he hesitated. "Will you obey my orders?"

"You command this squad, so as long as you give me a lawful order, I will obey," was the reply.

"And who decides if an order is lawful?" the boy asked, deciding to leave the question of the limits of his authority for later.

"Ultimately, the military courts, who will evaluate an order in accordance with the accepted rules of war and the code of military justice, as well as the accepted limits of an officer's authority," Emilia answered matter-of-factly. "Something that you should likely familiarize yourself with, Commander."

"...there's a code of military justice? For Albion?"

"There is," Emilia responded. "It is...not as comprehensive as the one the non-magical folk are supposed to follow, but regardless, there is one, yes."

"...I suppose I should read up on that then, so I know what orders I can issue," the boy muttered. Far better to know the rules so that he – or his subordinates – didn't break them inadvertently than to have to defend himself by pleading ignorance.

'_If I wasn't responsible for someone else…'_

If he was only responsible for his own well-being, then he would probably be fine doing what felt right, but with him responsible for Tohsaka's conduct…something told him it would be a good idea if he knew what was appropriate and acceptable, so he could make sure she knew and didn't get him into a world of trouble.

"It would not be a terrible idea," Emilia agreed, tapping the side of her blindfold, as a document appeared in his view. "Oh, a piece of advice, Commander."

"Yes?"

"Regardless of your legal authority, it is never a good idea to issue in order that you know will not be obeyed."

"...is that a threat, Emilia?"

"Merely a piece of advice, Commander," the young woman replied. "After all, to lead – to _command – _is a matter of trust, yes? Especially if your subordinates are not familiar with you. They can only trust you have the wisdom to understand a situation and give appropriate orders, just as you trust them to obey the orders you give. If you give orders you know will not be obeyed, orders that seem unreasonable, then that trust is broken."

"And what happens then?"

"Many commanders who fall victim to that end up losing their lives when their squad fails to obey in a life or death situation."

Shinji was silent as he mulled these rather chilling words in his mind.

It wasn't pleasant to think about, but Emilia…had a point. When it came down to it, most relationships were built on trust, so it made sense that the business of commanding was also deeply rooted in trust, because the point was to ensure that in precarious situations, where obedience could spell the difference between life and death, people _listened_.

Being rather unused to this whole business of command, he supposed he should be thankful his new...squad member was helping him out, whatever her other motives.

"Whose form are you borrowing this time?" he asked, deciding to start with something less controversial.

"That of Miss Suoirtsulli, the First Citizen's secretary," was the response, with Shinji blinking. "Though the clothes I am wearing were created by your fashion house, and are not part of her usual attire."

"I notice you don't have a briefcase or anything like that," Shinji observed. "Do you not have many possessions of your own?"

"No," came the response. "I own very few things, given what I am. Few possessions suit me in more than one or two forms, and I cannot remain in one identify forever so…it is hard to justify owning things. Even these clothes are only mine in that they were assigned to me as one of duty uniforms being prototyped for the Home Guard."

Shinji blinked.

"…I never thought about that," the boy remarked. "That sounds like a very different life than I'm used to." He shook his head. "Is there _anything _you call your own then?"

"Only a ring," the young woman responded after a moment. "I do not know quite what is made of, but it _is_ infused with the essence of a spirit of the wind. The band will grow or shrink to fit the owner, who may use it to conjure a barrier of wind, so long as I have the prana for it."

"Sounds useful. How did you come by it?"

"It was a gift from the First Citizen for…services rendered," was the reply. "He believed it would be useful for me to have some way of defending myself that was not reliant on the form I wore, something I much appreciated."

"I see…"

"I keep it because it is one of the few things useful to me in any form," Emilia agreed. She chuckled then, showing a trace of herself beyond her more serious façade. "The First Citizen is quite an unusual man…no, perhaps I should say an extraordinary man? He is quite considerate of my limits as well as what I most appreciate."

Her voice was almost tender as she said this, which seemed…odd to Shinji, though he didn't want to dwell on it.

"I have a ring somewhat like that," he said instead. "Only instead of a barrier of wind, it allows the wearer to use fireballs. Perhaps you would appreciate having an item that gives you some offensive capabilities regardless of form."

"…what would I have to do for it?" came the cautiously interested reply.

"I'll offer it to you as a show of good faith – and a way to put whatever…bad blood we may have behind us, if you agree to do the same," the boy answered. "You're on my squad now, after all, and so my responsibility."

"Is that all?"

"I mean, I could impose some kind of geas or write up some kind of contract, but since we are starting over in a sense, I'll believe you if you give me your word," Shinji stated. "That, and I doubt the First Citizen has assigned you to me to sabotage my efforts."

"True enough," Emilia observed. "My word, you say? You have it. I will do my best to support the squad and bring it success in its endeavors.""

"Wonderful. Then the ring will be yours once we reach the house."

The two fell silent for a while, with Shinji's mind going over a number of things, including how odd it must feel to essentially transform part of yourself into clothing, before settling on the fact that Lockhart apparently had a very sexy secretary – and had Emilia wear her form.

'_I suppose I know the Professor's tastes now.'_

"…is she a foreigner, this Suoirtsulli?" the boy questioned, frowning as he went over the different practitioners he knew and found no matches.

"No," Emilia responded, closing her eyes for a moment. "She was born and raised in England, though she apparently spent time around Mediterranean, in India and around the Pacific, conducting various field operations."

"Huh…" Shinji grunted. "And she's not a practitioner of witchcraft, I take it?"

"She is not."

"I see," the boy noted, reasoning that the young woman – the real one – was probably one of Lockhart's fellow Assassins. He supposed it would make sense for him to bring on someone he trusted as his secretary, since she would have access to everything he did. "Enough about her though. Tell me about you," Shinji said, changing the topic. " Why did you join Albion anyway? I doubt you have any great affection for the people of Britain—"

"—I don't—"

"So…"

Emilia was silent for a moment as she looked at the boy.

"I suppose part of it is personal loyalty," the _tanuki _admitted. "As for the rest, the land that the First Citizen seeks to build is far better than that which has resulted from the Ministry's machinations" was the answer she gave eventually. "Why did you, when your last action before this was to defend the people of the Ministry?"

"...I just needed something to do," Shinji replied, shaking his head. He'd been in between roles and places when Lockhart had given him this offer, one that Sokaris supported, so it seemed as good an idea as any. "That's all."

"Is that so?" Emilia questioned coolly. "I'm sure there were other reasons. Something you sought to learn, to achieve, to become."

"...there might have been," the boy admitted. "But I'm not sure that's really your business."

"It might be, and it might not, considering my specialty."

"I don't think I'll be needing a body double," Shinji replied, raising an eyebrow. "...or will I?"

"There are situations where one might be useful, but I leave whether you will…partake of the services I am willing to provide up to you," the _tanuki _commented, with Shinji swallowing as his mind went elsewhere for a moment. "But if you don't wish to talk about yourself, then tell me of our squadmate."

"You mean Tohsaka?"

"I do," Emilia observed. "Why did she join?"

Shinji was silent for a moment as he thought about Tohsaka's motives.

"…I think she wants to make something of herself," he said eventually. "To repay the debt she owes me."

"The debt, you say?"

"The one she believes she owes, anyway," he amended. "From the house I bought for her to live in, to me giving up my mentor so she could apprentice under one of the most skilled magi in the world…where would I begin?"

"You do quite a bit for your lover," Emilia noted coolly. "Your girlfriend, I suppose the word would be."

"S-she's not my girlfriend!" the boy protested, his face going red as he said this. "We…we're just friends. Squadmates. Allies. That's all."

"I hope for your sake that this is true," the young woman observed. "Having a romantic relationship with a subordinate in your chain of command is a violation of Albion's code of military justice, after all."

"Ah…is that so?"

"It is."

"I see."

"Anything else you wish to tell me regarding our colleague, Commander?"

"…only that Tohsaka lacks patience, or an understanding of her limits," the boy related. "She's…from the time she was young, she's been used to being treated like a prodigy, since she's an Average One, capable of using the five major elements. But she's…" he hesitated. "She's inexperienced, and doesn't know how much she doesn't know."

"…is _she_ capable of following orders?"

"…_that _I don't actually know."

* * *

The trip back to Shinji's manor was fairly uneventful, with Mashu meeting the duo at the door and welcoming them in and Emilia, interestingly, showing more deference to the Agent of Atlas than one would normally show to a simple maid.

More than she showed to _him, _even, which implied…

"Do you know…" the boy asked, as he showed her to a guest room, not wanting to say more in case Tohsaka was around, or in case she didn't actually know of Mashu's actual identity.

"I know enough," Emilia confirmed. "I have been present at meetings the First Citizen has had with her."

"I see," Shinji noted, revising his estimate of her importance in Albion up a notch or two. "As a negotiator, an observer or—"

"Both, though initially, I was furniture."

"Fur—_what_?"

"While more suspicious individuals might look for enchanted items or eavesdropping devices, few would suspect that the furniture itself was listening in," came the reply. Emilia's face lost all expression for a moment after that. "Though it hardly matters when one's powers let them see the true nature of things. Comprehension is a necessary precursor to transmutation, after all."

"Huh…she knew what you were?"

"She mentioned to the First Citizen that it was only courteous if all parties involved were sitting at the table, instead of being sat on by those at the table." Then her expression turned sly. "Not that I would mind her sitting on me again."

"W-what?!

"Nevermind. Perhaps I could have some time to freshen up, while you get Tohsaka so I can brief her, as well as getting the ring?"

"Yes," Shinji agreed. "Do you want to change, or…?"

"As this is Albion business, the Home Guard uniform will suffice," the _tanuki _replied. "You are free to do as you wish, Commander."

"Very well. I'll see you in the sitting room in an hour?"

"That will do."

* * *

"No."

"Tohsaka, what do you mean—"

"I mean I don't understand!" Rin protested, clearly having trouble grasping what Emilia was telling them. "You're a hero, Matou. Why are you – we – being sent to do something like protect some…some actress?!" she sputtered, sounding quite outraged.

"Because the First Citizen considers Miss Granger a useful asset, whatever your feelings about her, and as a member of the Home Guard, you are to carry out his orders," Emilia responded professionally.

"But…there are monsters out there!" the magus complained. "Actual threats. So why is the First Citizen wasting our time?"

"_He_ does not consider it a waste of time," the busty blindfolded woman replied coolly. "And neither does your commander."

"She's right," Shinji cut in, looking like himself again in the comfort of his home. "I mean, Emilia's right, Tohsaka," he clarified, realizing that there was some room for confusion in his words. "Lockhart has his reasons. Emilia, continue, please."

"You're siding with _her?_" Rin demanded. "You're a hero. You—"

"And _you_ are not, as our spar proved _quite_ well," came the boy's reply, a response which made the girl flinch. "It's not a matter of taking sides. It's a matter of accepting the responsibilities entrusted to us, and trusting our superiors see things more clearly than we do."

"But what if they're wrong?" Tohsaka protested. "We can't just blindly follow orders!"

"Tohsaka – you enlisted in the Home Guard. That means that unless the orders we receive are unlawful, we do have to follow them," Shinji answered, raising his hand to forestall further comments from the Japanese girl. "In any case, perhaps we could let Emilia finish talking, as she knows the specifics of the mission far better than we do."

"Thank you, Commander," the white-haired girl responded. "Before I was so rudely interrupted, I had mentioned that our mission was to protect Miss Granger while she remains at the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts, yes?"

Shinji nodded.

"Why won't she leave?" Rin asked, frowning.

"She believes she does not deserve special treatment," Emilia responded. "That any resources spent guarding her would be better served protecting the people of Britain."

"She's right about that," Tohsaka rejoined. "She's one person – not a hero, not a fighter, not even a shopkeeper or a leader. She's just an actress – someone our age! How important could she be?"

"Miss Tohsaka, while I acknowledge that you are largely ignorant of the political realities of Magical Britain, I had hoped you would be willing to refrain from advertising said ignorance by opening your mouth when your betters are speaking. Apparently, I had expected too much from—"

"From what?!"

"From someone who the Commander had acknowledged as a valuable asset."

"Wha—" But Tohsaka went quiet as her brain caught up with her mouth. "Uh, M-matou-kun said that?"

"Yes," the _tanuki _stated_. _"May I continue?"

"…please."

"In that case, as I have chosen to trust our Commander's perception of you, rather than my own first impression, perhaps you would be willing to trust the First Citizen's impression of Miss Granger?"

"I…I suppose I can do that," the young magus allowed grudgingly. "Is it that it then? We have to be her bodyguards?"

But Miss Emilia merely shook her head.

"Unfortunately, that is only the first part of the mission, though a necessary part, as it is likely the Ministry may move to neutralize her, either by assassination or capture," she said apologetically. "The second part of the mission involves persuading her to move to a more secure location and accept a permanent bodyguard."

Tohsaka blinked.

"So the mission is to protect her until we change her mind and get her to move somewhere safer?" she clarified.

"Yes."

"That doesn't seem too hard."

"Oh?" Shinji questioned, raising an eyebrow, with Rin looking non-plussed as to why he seemed confused.

"To put it simply," Rin declared, raising a finger as if to lecture the others, "all we have to do is get her to change her mind, and that's simple enough."

"Is it?" Miss Emilia questioned.

"Of course, it is," Tohsaka insisted, "we just knock her out and alter her memory, or weave some compulsion while she's unconscious, so she agrees to go somewhere else. There's no need to bother with protecting her in that case, or wasting more time than we have to."

"No. We won't be doing that," Emilia responded immediately.

"What. Why?" Rin asked, confused and looking to Matou for support. "It's the most efficient way to do this."

"Tohsaka…it's not about doing what is most efficient, but what is right," Matou Shinji said, shaking his head. "Besides, there are some downsides you're not seeing?"

"Downsides?"

"First, have you modified anyone's memories or laid a geas on anyone before?"

"Well, no but—"

"Then we don't want your first time trying it to be on the person we've been assigned to protect," Shinji interjected. "I appreciate your suggestion, but the risk of damaging her mind is too great." He sighed, shaking his head. "Emilia, you have a proposal for dealing with this, I'm sure?"

"Indeed, Commander," the white-haired young woman responded, with a deferential nod of her head.

"Let's hear it, then."

Emilia quickly sketched out the basics for what she had in mind, a plan which took advantage of her skills as an infiltration specialist, as well as the fact that the attack on London had created quite a few orphans who were to be sent to WADA for school.

"To WADA?" Shinji asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why there?"

"Because its only institution which can really house them, long-term," Emilia explained. "These are the children we have not managed to place with living relatives outside the magical world, or with relatives loyal to the cause of Albion."

"…what about relatives not loyal to the cause of Albion?"

"The First Citizen will not permit us to place children with families loyal to the Ministry, given the likelihood that they will be conscripted into the British army," was Emilia's statement on the matter. "Neither we, nor our allies, would approve of conscripting child soldiers."

"…just hostages and volunteers, huh?" Shinji questioned, shaking his head. "Well, whatever works, I suppose. Go on."

"As mentioned, WADA, being a boarding school, is set up to house and educate these students, giving them an introduction to the magical world, and some semblance of a normal life away from the war. You may be interested to know that Hermione Granger has volunteered to be the mentor for these children, to show them the ropes, as it were."

"Now that _is_ interesting," the boy murmured. "I assume you plan to take advantage of this somehow, given your unique skills?"

"You assume correctly," Emilia said with a dip of her head. "I propose the following. I will pose as a frightened muggleborn girl left orphaned by the attack. In that form, I will get close to her and win her trust."

"You think that will make it easier to persuade her?"

"I think it is more likely she will respect the wishes of someone she volunteered to look after, as opposed to that of a bodyguard she neither wants nor believes she needs for herself," Emilia replied.

"And our role in this grand plan would be…?"

"Bodyguards, though officially, you would be assigned not directly to Miss Granger, but to the children," the young woman explained. "You would still be able to carry out your mission, while not rousing her ire."

"You may be forgetting that Miss Granger and I did not part on…the greatest of terms," Shinji offered. "And if I remember correctly, part of what triggered this was…" He glanced over at Rin.

"You will both be disguised and using aliases, of course," the _tanuki_ commented.

"Isn't that just lying to her then?" Rin spoke up. "If you're just arranging things to make her choose what you want her to choose, why not just change her mind directly? Why go through all of this bother and nonsense, where we aren't even doing what we're assigned to do, just…looking after children?"

"Miss Tohsaka—"

"Besides, once she finds out we were there, lying to her this entire time, then won't she just go back to WADA?"

"If she found out that we had been deceiving her, what you say would indeed not be an unlikely turn of events," Emilia admitted, with a vindicated-looking Tohsaka about to say something further, only the white-haired young woman never gave her the chance. "Which is why she will ideally never learn that Matou Shinji, Tohsaka Rin, and Emilia were there."

"And how do you plan to accomplish_ that?_" Shinji questioned, curious about what she had in mind.

"Through layers of planning and preparation. We have two weeks – I suggest we use them to do several things. Of the utmost importance, each of you should identify any obvious mannerisms or patterns of speech that might give you away, as well as any signature combat techniques. The reason for this is that you do not want Miss Granger – or anyone with one iota of intelligence – to make a connection between you as you normally are and what you do when you are disguised."

"You mean, I have to change the way I fight?" Rin asked incredulously, her face a mask of disbelief. "Why would I do that?"

"…because you don't want to jeopardize the plan?"

"I don't see why we would go with a plan like this anyway," Tohsaka protested. "It's too complicated. Too much effort for one person."

"Tohsaka…"

"Even if she's important, why do we have to go this far?" the Japanese girl demanded, whirling on Shinji. "You, you brought this…_stranger_ into our house. You're just listening to _her_. You're ignoring everything I have to say. Why? Why won't you listen to me?"

"Tohsaka, Emilia came personally recommended by the First Citizen," the boy replied, feeling more than a hint of ire creep into his voice at her petulance and refusal to _know her place. _"She's an infiltration specialist, who does this sort of thing all the time – she's even been his body double. The least we can do is hear her out."

"Then why not me?" Rin demanded. "She's...she's asking us…_anyone_ can look after children. Matou, that's…I chose to join this...Albion just so I could be at your side, fight by your side, watch your back. But instead of fighting, instead of doing something meaningful, we're…watching children? Why? Why should we listen to this…person when she's making us do these meaningless things?"

"Because you know _nothing_, Tohsaka," Shinji snapped, with Rin flinching at his tone and his words. "You are completely inexperienced when it comes to working as someone's agent, or being part of a larger organization. This isn't Fuyuki. You're not the Second Owner here. You're a rookie who answers to_ me_, so stop embarrassing me in front of our newest squadmate. Oh, and embarrassing yourself."

"Matou…" Tohsaka whispered, swallowing as her expression tightened. "I…even if Granger is so valuable, why can't someone like Miss Emilia just pose as her? If she is good enough to pretend to be someone else, why not Granger?"

"If it proves necessary for me to impersonate Miss Granger due to…unforeseen circumstances, I am not unwilling," Emilia interjected, with the magus looking over at her, startled. "But unless we have no other options, that would not be something I wish to do."

"A good point," Shinji agreed. "I assume we should also look into disguises?"

"Yes. Feel free to make them memorable – though I think we mostly need to do that for Miss Tohsaka, as you already have a very serviceable one."

"Good enough," the boy said with a decisive nod. "I'll put you in charge of this mission, since I don't think either Tohsaka or I have the expertise to act as lead."

"Your confidence in me is appreciated, Commander," Emilia replied with a small, but lovely smile. "As is the ring you offered me," she added, almost as an afterthought, words that seemed innocuous, but—

"You…_what?!" _Tohsaka screeched, her face pale and her skin…cold and clammy. "Matou, it…it's not true. Tell me it's not—"

"Tohsaka, I think I've had about enough of your behavior for the night. You are dismissed."

"Matou, I…"

"Perhaps you did not hear me. You are _dismissed."_

"Oh…o…kay."

Like a broken automaton, or perhaps a lost, little lamb, Tohsaka tottered off, leaving Shinji alone with Emilia.

"And as for you…"

"I will make arrangements for Albion to issue identity papers for our aliases, as well as handling the other logistics needed. Unfortunately, no special equipment has been authorized for this mission, but I doubt we'll need it."

"I…that works." The boy sighed heavily, shaking his head as he felt it begin to throb. "How long do you think the mission will take, once everything is ready?"

"Two weeks to a month, most likely."

"I see. And are any other forces already at WADA?"

"An ALF squad, yes, tasked with protection of the school."

"And Lockhart thinks Hermione needs extra protection?"

"He has reason to believe that the Ministry will try something soon," Emilia noted. "And so he wants both of us on site, just in case."

"He doesn't trust the goblins to repel an assault?"

"If there was a direct assault, they'd certainly repel it. A covert op, however…"

"I can see how that could be trouble," the boy sighed, shaking his head. "This command thing is going to be more troublesome than I thought, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," Emilia said sympathetically. "On the note of preparations, I will be heading into Magical London tomorrow to handle some of groundwork. Would you care to join me? You could meet some of the orphans and learn a bit about them before the mission."

"…you know what, why not? It's a date."


	8. How the Other Side Lives

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 8. **_How the Other Side Lives_

As he stood on the ramparts of Hogwarts on a lonely grey morning, looking towards the south, the source of so many strange rumors, fantastic tales, and…that cursed letter from the man who was now calling himself First Citizen of Albion, Harry Potter shivered.

In the wake of the evacuation of the Ministry, with thousands of refugees managing to escape London thanks to the actions of the boy – the criminal – who had once been his best friend, the Boy-Who-Lived hadn't known what to think. London – the capital of Britain – was supposed to be the stronghold of the Ministry's power, and yet when the enemy hit them, the only thing that had kept every single member of the Ministry from being slaughtered were the actions of a self-admitted _dark wizard _and _necromancer_.

Matou Shinji, the former British Potions Champion.

Savior of the Ministry.

Servant and student of a reborn Dark Lord.

Defender of the Weak.

Betrayer of Friends, Corrupter of Allies.

Master of the Dark Arts.

The Wyrm that Walked.

How…how had he not seen it coming, not seen what his best friend was _be_coming? Had…had he been blind from the start, drawn into Matou's web of lies from the moment the Jap had come to his compartment on the train, whispering into ear of how ambition was a worthy thing, of how _he had found his own path_…?

'_Was he steering me even then?' _the boy wondered. In hindsight, with the clarity of years of distance, it seemed obvious that Matou Shinji had known exactly what he was doing, making exactly the right arguments to let him accept being sorted into Slytherin, even applauding him afterwards. _'Back then, I thought of him as the only one who supported me, as my only real friend, but what if I was the only one who saw us as friends.'_

It seemed absurd to think that Matou's machinations could have already been in motion from the first time they'd met, but then, it was undeniable that the Japanese boy had quickly risen first to notoriety, then to prominence from his association with the Boy-who-Lived.

'_Especially after we fought the troll…'_

A fight which had only been winnable because of the Japanese boy's strange arts, and…_the actions of Peeves._

At the time, he'd just accepted the poltergeist's timely intervention as a swing of good fortune…but what if it hadn't been fortune? What if Matou – and Quirrell, or really the spirit of Voldemort - had been in on it from the start, having arranged it all from the start? What if the event that had led to the formation of the Stone Cutters had been staged, and the boys had been used as catspaws by Voldemort to get the Stone the entire time?

'…_yes, I can see it now. Leaving behind Quirrell's dead body must have just been a ruse, so we wouldn't suspect anything…'_

A ruse which bought Tomas time to be born into the world with the help of other allies, even as Britain focused their attention on praising the Stone Cutters for their actions in 'helping to stop a Dark Wizard.' Stone Cutters that oddly enough, had only been injured _almost _to the point of death…

'_I've often wondered by Quirrell – Voldemort – didn't just kill them. At the time, I thought it was because he didn't think they were worth the bother. But now, I'm not so sure.'_

Knowing what he knew now, that too had been part of a coldly calculated plan to hide Matou's complicity in this whole affair…

…though, in that case, what about Sokaris, who _had_ died?

'_Matou was…very fixated on her in the years afterwards,' _the boy mused. _'Was it just because she died, I wonder? Or was it something else?'_

Her body had been missing in the aftermath, after all. At the time, everyone had assumed she'd simply been burned up by the black flames, but…what if she hadn't? Voldemort's spirit would have needed to go _somewhere _after leaving Quirrell's body behind, especially if it wanted to take the Stone with it.

'_Possession. Voldemort must have possessed her, using her body to escape…'_

Presumably, the Dark Lord had then hopped to another body and killed Sokaris so no one would be able to find him.

…had Matou known that was going to happen, he wondered?

Was _that_ why he had been so fixated on Sokaris in the years after? Because he'd chosen Sokaris as a sacrifice for Voldemort's revival, and so sought to make sure something of her lived on in him out of _guilt?_

If he looked at everything from the perspective of Matou being a loyal servant of the Dark, it all made sense.

Matou had taken him to Japan, so that his Master could evaluate just how much of a threat the Boy-Who-Lived really was, with Harry failing to realize that the man who was teaching him Occlumency – and reading his mind in the process – was his sworn enemy.

Matou had been instructed in the dark arts of his forbears, gaining the power to fuse with spirits, to turn his skin to stone, to conjure a weapon that could petrify foes and command the very earth, and of course, he'd shown off these powers to the Stone Cutters to tempt them into coming to Japan with him the very next summer.

…which of course, just by coincidence surely, had left the young "heroes" with a perfect excuse for why they hadn't been there at the Quidditch World Cup incident. Yes, he remembered now – Matou had advised him to unlock his animagus form, something that had kept him isolated for most of the summer, while he had corrupted the Weasley Twins, exposing them to dark powers that had twisted them into caricatures of themselves.

He hadn't realized it then, but by the end of that summer, his friends had been long gone. Fred had gone mad with paranoia, eventually resulting in him trying to assassinate the Minister's son. George…the other Weasley twin had become utterly cold, a monster of logic who had openly disparaged the students of Hogwarts after the tragedy at Durmstrang, who had turned to blood magic and other dark arts, and who had obviously been in a position to win the Tri-Wizard Tournament – only to lose on purpose to spite the nation.

As for Luna, who seemed genuinely devoted to Matou – he could only imagine that he had taken advantage of her vulnerability and loneliness, manipulating things enough so that she'd fallen in love with him, had become devoted to him – willing to do anything for him, like Bellatrix had been to Voldemort himself.

And so, the boy was forced to conclude that Dumbledore had been wrong. Voldemort knew very well how powerful love could be – at least when used as a weapon, or to create one. What he _didn't_ know was that love, beyond corrupting, could _protect._

'…_which is why I wasn't taken in completely. Because I had Daphne. Because she was there for me, helping me to think, to reason through the lies.'_

Frankly, he didn't know what he would have done without her presence, without her to keep him sane even as the news from London came in drips and drabs.

'_I guess Granger must have been the one Matou set his eyes on first, until something happened. Perhaps the Dark Lord wanted a new Bellatrix, or perhaps…I don't know.'_

He shook his head.

What he knew was this.

An enemy army of wizards, giants, and _inferi_ had rampaged through Diagon Alley, slaughtering everything in their path – one that the Ministry could not have fended off, even if they'd brought the entirety of their forces to London.

In the face of this, the Minster had reluctantly ordered that all Ministry personnel evacuate to Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, where the fortifications that had been erected would be better able to hold off the onslaught – sacrificing the few for the sake of the nation.

After that…

Well, the accounts he'd heard and seen were garbled, sometimes contradictory.

The Minister mentioned how Matou had sworn an Unbreakable Oath to fight against the enemies of Britain so that those in the Ministry could escape, to hold them in the Atrium for half an hour. The destruction of the Ministry building and the successful escape of the vast majority of the Ministry's personnel seemed to indicate he had done so.

And then there were the goblins, which had apparently marched out of Gringotts to defend London _in full battle armor_, with some of them seen using _wands_. How curious that just as the Ministry abandoned London, a new force largely comprised of non-humans oh-so-conveniently happened to be there to come to the defense of the city and those within it.

That they had done so at all was strange enough, since there were lifetimes of bad blood and bad feelings between wizards and goblins. The timing though…that was most suspicious, especially when the Marshal of that army was not a goblin all, but a man the Boy-Who-Lived knew well – a man who called himself _'Tomas Peverell.'_

The force had won, of course, slaughtering the _inferi_ and the giants – though oddly, a number of the dark wizards were unaccounted for, which in Harry's mind, left no doubt that this whole thing – the Quidditch World Cup, the Attack on London, the Goblin Intervention – had been staged.

Especially with Gilderoy Lockhart, the so-called Greatest Adventurer of Britain, declaring in the wake of the battle that the Ministry's abandonment of its people meant that it had no legitimacy as a government, and that where the Ministry – with its policies on conscription, in tearing Britain from the international community, and how it had imposed martial law – had failed to protect them, the forces of Albion would not. Indeed, with goblins and humans standing side by side as they faced the future – and everything it might bring – together, Albion would usher in a new era of prosperity for wizardkind.

Which was odd enough in itself (aside from spitting in the face of everything the Ministry had tried to do to protect Britain, and all the hard choices it had had to make), until a new scrap of information had come in.

Matou Shinji had survived his encounter at the Ministry, was being hailed as a hero…and had agreed to join Albion's Home Guard.

'…_it was a set-up from the very beginning,' _Harry thought, his blood running cold. _'If we'd fought, we would have died for naught, only for the goblins to step in afterwards. With the Ministry evacuating, they simply moved sooner rather than later.'_

This…he saw now. He _understood._

'_Voldemort…he…he doesn't just want to win. He wants the world to see him as a _hero_.'_

And Matou Shinji had supported him in his aims from the very beginning.

Yes…it made sense. It made sense now why Shinji had stopped caring about what the Ministry thought of him, about what the British public thought of him, why he had refused to become a British Citizen and swear loyalty to the Ministry – because he knew that his Master would soon make a move against Britain, and that he would have a place of honor at his Master's side.

'_Maybe he even believes that Voldemort isn't the enemy of Britain – and that his forces are not, either, meaning his Vow might well have been meaningless. Perhaps what happened is that while the Ministry's personnel were evacuating, they raided the Department of Mysteries, seizing the prophecies, the Veil…'_

…and the Ministry's research. Especially...

_'No...no, even he wouldn't...!' _

But even as he thought that, he knew he was wrong. Matou Shinji was the sort to take advantage of everything he could get his hands on, using whatever means he could find to achieve victory, no matter how underhanded, no matter how...unusual. And so he knew that what the Unspeakables had left behind, all the things they had not been able to take with them in their rush to get out, might be turned against them, including their research on time.

In the wake of the Quidditch World Cup Incident, where half the country had died, the Department of Mysteries had begun to investigate time travel once more, focusing on methods other than the Hour-Reversal Charm (which had rather deleterious effects on anyone who used it to travel beyond five hours into the past), in the hope that they could send a force back to stop the incident in its tracks, so that what was, would be not be.

They had reported some preliminary successes, but with that research fallen into the hands of their enemy...

_'He'll take what the Unspeakables created and turn it against us, turning time into a weapon, making it impossible for us to beat him, undoing our every attempt at victory.'_

If Voldemort truly had taken possession of everything that was left behind, then it was only a matter of time before the Ministry – before the entire Wizarding World – had already lost, unless…

'…_unless we follow him down that forbidden road, undoing his plans not in the present, but in the past, before he reaches the point where he snatch the future away from all of us.'_

Yes, it was forbidden for a reason, as such research could have catastrophic results on the fabric of time, but…they had no choice. In order to win, in order to even have a hope of victory, they too had to use time as a weapon, _for the Greater Good._

* * *

Back in London, Matou Shinji was going about his day without any clue of what his once friend been thinking, though as had become the norm for his trips to Diagon Alley, he was dressed as "Nines", wearing a black, somewhat military looking jacket and slacks that happened to match, as well as a blindfold that charmed his hair to smoothness and turned it silver, making him look distinctive – but not all like Matou Shinji.

Emilia, of course, his "date" – well, companion, as an officer was not supposed to date his subordinates – for the day, was dressed to match, wearing an elegant black dress that came down to mid-thigh, as part of a set with stockings and thigh-high boots.

Given their unusual mode of dress, the boy had avoided taking public transport, instead arranging for a discreet chauffeur service to take him and his companion to Charing Cross Road, where the Leaky Cauldron was located, with Emilia raising a slim eyebrow as a Rolls Royce Phantom VI pulled up in front of the house.

A car Shinji knew well, as was its driver, a rather tall Nordic-seeming man Shinji remembered from quite a few trips.

"Hello again, Sir," Jeeves greeted them, as he disembarked from the car and proceeded to open the back door for them with a bow – one that Shinji returned, as the tall, rather well-built Chauffeur had done quite a bit for him over the years.

"And to you, Jeeves," Shinji replied, his mood already better after seeing the man. "Jeeves, this is Emilia, a...colleague of mine. Emilia, Jeeves - the best driver I know in London."

"One tries," the Nordic man replied humbly, as he gestured for them to enter. Once they'd done so, he closed the door behind them and made his way back to the driver side seat. "Charing Cross Station, sir?"

"Indeed."

It wasn't a particularly long ride, and perhaps it was indulgent to take a limousine to the Leaky Cauldron instead of using some more magical form of transport. The fact of the matter was, however, that the Floo Network was no longer in operation with the fall of the Ministry (and that even if it was, his house wasn't connected to it), that he wasn't one for apparition, and that he had no flow _ofuda_ in Diagon Alley, so one might as we well take a car - and if Mashu had a private car service on retainer, well, was it not better to take advantage of it?

After they disembarked, and Jeeves had departed, he and his companion had stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, passing through it once more into what had once been the heart of Magical London, and now was mostly dust and echoes...

'_It almost feels wrong, given how many people lived here, gathered here…'_

It was being rebuilt, slowly, with goblins and witches working together to create something new, something that seemed a bit more permanent (or perhaps just had an aesthetic he didn't see as rustic and outmoded?), working with stone and wood and more.

'_It's not like some of the buildings of _Mahoutokoro, _which were grown, rather than built, but we're seeing change.'_

Change wasn't a quick thing, and it wasn't easy, but perhaps it was possible after all, even in a system as rigid as Magical Britain's.

It was odd, the things he noticed.

In his previous visits, the only people on the streets had been self-styled wizards and witches, dressed in robes of different cuts. This time, he saw a more diverse crowd.

Goblins, some in armor, some in business attire, some in even more esoteric outfits.

A few centaurs, moving about uneasily.

Some leprechauns in green.

And…even among the humans, things were different. There were a great many foreigners on the streets – some in clothes similar to his, some in odd hooded robes that reminded him of the Stone Cutters' garb, there were families in rather tattered outfits, and some witches wearing rather revealing garb as they mentioned something about a good time.

All in all, he and Emilia didn't actually stand out much.

_'Busier than I expected, really. I wonder if something is about to happen...with all the people here,'_ he thought to himself, noting the number of languages he thought he heard. English, but also French, German, and…maybe Arabic? That, and the visitors seemed friendly enough, with people and creatures giving each other small, but respectful nods. _'In the old Britain, people would have been suspicious of a stranger. Right now though...? They don't seem to mind foreigners much.'_

Why were they here though? Granted, it had been some time, but…had Lockhart opened the borders of Albion to visitors? Had he chosen to hire mercenaries for defense, or to invite displaced wizards to Britain to replace the portion of the population which had been…ah, slain?

'_Curiouser and curiouser.'_

Before they did much else though, like meet the orphans, Emilia asked if they could take a moment to see the performance happening at the fountain in front of Gringotts, arguing that since they would be at the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts, it would be a good idea to see examples of what they could do that wasn't propaganda that had been bought and paid for.

"That makes sense," the boy had agreed, though he wasn't particularly fond of whatever they might be doing.

The Tale of the Three Brothers, apparently, from the _Tales of Beedle the Bard._

'…_maybe I was wrong about this not being bought and paid for then, given who the _"Wizard-Marshal" _of Albion is…'_

"I suppose we can spare a moment," Shinji allowed, noting that there were still some empty spots on the benches in front of the fountain – as well as some vendors about. "I don't suppose you'd want some ice cream?" he asked, more out of politeness than anything else.

"I would, actually," Emilia responded with a slight smile. "Hokey Pokey flavor, if you don't mind."

"Hokey Pokey…?" Shinji repeated, wondering if he'd heard correctly. "What kind of—"

"Vanilla with chunks of honeycomb," came the explanation, with the boy's face showing that he understood. "But if they don't have that, I can go with blueberry earl grey."

"…you some kind of ice cream connoisseur?" Shinji inquired. "These all sound fancy, and I'm not at all sure they'd have them here."

"…they do in the muggle world," the _tanuki _grumbled, seeming just a bit petulant at the thought of the cart not having her favorite favors.

"Given the Statute of Secrecy and all. They're more likely to have pumpkin-flavored ice cream than something like Hokey Pokey."

Emilia crinkled her nose at the very mention of pumpkin-flavored ice cream.

"How disgusting," she said. "Pumpkins should be made into pies, or used with spices for shakes, not…put into ice cream." She sighed. "Well, if they don't have either of those, then something with marshmallows and chocolate. Perhaps some cinnamon cracker crumble."

Shinji's mind screeched to a halt as he processed what those ingredients could make.

'…_a s'more?' _

"…like a s'more?" he asked cautiously, remembering how the very first time he'd encountered a _tanuki_ was when one had nearly killed him over such a thing.

"Is that what they're called?" Emilia asked. "I only know it's a good combination."

"Well, I'll see what they have," Shinji replied, shaking his head.

As it turned out, there _was_ vanilla and honeycomb, so the _tanuki_ was happy enough – as was he, since the flavor was actually quite good.

The play wasn't terrible either. None of the actors were quite up to Granger's level, but they did a credible job and the costume design was just to die for…even if the costume for Death looked far more mechanical and menacing than the actual conceptual being had been.

'…_I wonder if I can hire whoever is in charge of costuming for LeShin,'_ he mused, before tabling the thought, since it probably wasn't an immediate priority.

"_Legend has it that even today, the gifts of Death remain in this world, passing from hand to hand, from wielder to wielder with the passing of the ages. The wand seeking one who like the First Brother values – and embodies – Power, the cloak passing to those who are Wise – who like the third Brother, understand their limits and yet what they can accomplish within them, the Stone to one who like the Second Brother – is brave – who has the Courage to face the truth of this world. Perhaps…perhaps one day, the three will be united by a destined hero, their powers joining as one to prevent the coming of demise, but that…is a tale that has yet to be written."_

The performance ended with a smattering of applause, with Shinji politely clapping, as he had actually enjoyed the rendition of the tale. Truly, some things were better experienced than merely read about.

'_Though I don't really want to encounter Death again. I'm not sure it would end quite as well as the last time…'_

"Well," he said, turning to Emilia, who had a look of almost childlike joy on her face. "That was something."

"It was," she agreed. "Onwards then, my lord?"

"Onwards indeed."

Their business at Gringotts didn't take too long, really, with Shinji's personal banker mostly asking about his term of service with Albion and how he wanted to be paid – whether it was in wizarding currency, British pounds, gems or…something longer term.

"Longer term?" he asked, only to be informed that Gringotts had its fingers in a number of different investment ventures, from real estate to bonds, from muggle stocks to magical ones. "Wait, magical Britain has stocks?"

It did indeed, apparently, with preferred customers of Gringotts being offered a chance of investing in Gobcorp, a new _goblin_-led corporation chartered under the law of Albion, in partnership with a number of governments.

"…Gobcorp?" the boy echoed dubiously, thinking it wasn't the most creative name he'd heard, but then, maybe the name wasn't so important compared to the potential returns. As such, he'd agreed to be paid in Gobcorp equity, instead of simple money, as he figured he didn't have _that_ much in the way of expenses anyway, and if he needed, he could simply move money from Tohsaka's paycheck.

By chance, the boy asked about the Albion alliance and how long that had been on the works, but the only response was "long enough" – an answer that told him very little. The title they gave the First Citizen – Oathkeeper – was suggestive of more, but of what, he couldn't say for sure.

As he left the office the office of his banker, heading back to the lobby, he ran into Emilia, finding that they had finished their business around the same time.

"Shall we continue?" the _tanuki_ asked, with Shinji nodding, as there was more to see, no doubt.

So they proceeded to Horizont Alley, with the boy noting the presence of many goblin guards, a fairly sizable number of construction crews working away, and oddly enough, no one that seemed poor or out of luck.

"They're working hard I see," he noted.

"Yes, but it always is more difficult to build - or rebuild, than to destroy," the tanuki pointed out. "Far too many people like to destroy. Not enough will do what it takes to rebuild."

"Are you sure you're not one of the destroyers?" Shinji quipped. "I remember the last time we met."

"I hurt – I even kill, sometimes, but not for the fun of it," Emilia grumbled. "I mean, that's one of the few things that annoys me, when people just kill and ruin things because it's interesting. Making things is harder. Restraint is harder. Otherwise...you saw Diagon Alley."

He had, and the scars on it, the missing families - all of those haunted him - because it made him wonder if there had been more he could do – or could have done.

"Yes, I did. A lot of people died there," the boy responded, subdued.

"It could have been worse. Would have, without the Goblins and our Mentor."

"You think highly of him - of Lockhart."

"He'd done a lot for me," Emilia admitted. "Helping me find a place in this country, giving me a chance when others wouldn't. I appreciate people like him who want to make the world a better place."

"You mean though Albion."

"Among other things." The _tanuki_ smiled slightly. "This country has a long way to go, with how it treats non-humans." Her smile slipped as she shook her head. "I've seen so many terrible things here in Britain, but the most terrible was watching shopkeepers try to run, while leaving the elves behind. No, making sure they had orders to stay at their post, while their human masters tried – and failed – to get to safety. I want change that, to make a better future for those that aren't human, but are living, thinking creatures."

"Is that why you work for me now?"

"Do you ask because you think you're human? Or because you know you're not?"

"Both," was Shinji's answer.

"Well, if I have to answer, it's because if I have to work with someone, it might as well be someone who is stubborn about doing what is right. Even if that someone can sometimes be a fool."

There were only two more stops for them that day.

First was the new government building, a structure that was far more modest and unassuming than the old Ministry had been. In the main entrance hall, there was a painting there, a mural depicting the run siding rising in the mountains, and a witch, a goblin, a house elf, and many others watching it together.

There he learned that Albion was run by a Council, and that the tables in the conference tables were round, so that even symbolically there would be no head to dominate everything, with all who sat at the table being nominally equal as defenders of the realm and guardians of its future.

"Except for the First Citizen?"

"Well, every government needs someone to give it direction, even if it is merely someone who is first among equals."

"Equals, huh?" Shinji echoed. "I can see how people would like to believe that."

"Yes, it is quite a potent thing, the notion of having a voice," Emilia noted. "Especially when you are part of a group that been left out of power for a very long time. Like the goblins."

The _tanuki's _words left Matou Shinji quite thoughtful as they left the government building, heading to their final stop of the day - one of the shelters set up for those who had nowhere else to call home. This one in particular was meant for children who had lost their parents – the orphans of Diagon Alley – with Emilia mentioning that this might be a good opportunity to meet the children they might be working with.

The lead caretaker welcomed them in, greeting Emilia enthusiastically by name – by her current name, that was – suggesting they'd met before, and fussing over Shinji, or "Nines", as he called himself, wondering if they were a couple.

"Oh, no – we're—"

"Associates," Emilia supplied smoothly.

"Yes, that," the boy agreed.

"Well, if she vouches for you, you must be a decent enough bloke," the caretaker noted. "Come in, I'll introduce you to the children."

There was twelve of them in total – all of whom had survived the attack on London, while their parents or guardians had not. Apparently, there had been a few more who had been placed with more distant relatives since the attack, but these were the ones who were left.

Half of them were muggleborns who had been dropped into a new world at the tender age of 11, just old enough to have received an acceptance letter. They had been going around Diagon Alley, escorted by their parents and a Professor, but all of the adults had been killed, either by giants or _inferi_.

A third were purebloods, who had only ever known of the magical world, and would be helplessly lost if place with muggle relatives.

The youngest of these was a nine year old by the name of Grim Fawley (of the pureblood Fawley family), while the oldest was thirteen year old Penelope Padgett, a former Slytherin whose parents (who had lived in Diagon Alley, running one of the stores there) had withdrawn her from Hogwarts after Quidditch World Cup incident, electing to home-school her rather than have their child sent to Durmstrang for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, as everyone knew that school was a haven for practitioners of the Dark Arts.

Grindelwald had studied there, after all!

Among the rest, people who had connections to both worlds, the most notable was Mafalda Prewett, a 12 year old cousin of the Weasleys whose parents (a Squib and a Muggle) had chosen to defer her attendance at Hogwarts for a year (as their closest wizarding relatives - the Weasleys - had suffered grievously in the wake of the Cup), instead sending her to Charm School in Diagon Alley was a way to get her used to the expectations and customs of the Wizarding World (as well as learning a few basic charms, so she wouldn't be completely helpless by pureblood standards).

In his guise as Nines, Shinji talked a bit about the lands he had seen and the adventures he had been on, though he was amused by how the young ones looked up to Emilia almost as a big sister. They asked him about the East, about what he thought of the goblins, what he knew of the North…even if he'd ever fought a dragon (as if a dragon was somehow the most dangerous thing in the world.)

He told them of Japan and its wilds, of the frozen arctic lands, infested with trolls and serpents, of Russia, where people used transfigured bears for defense and drank vodka like it was water, of exotic isles where creatures like nuckelavee and spirits of smokeless flame existed to this day.

Emilia for her part, spoke of the Frozen Queen of the North, the Wyrm that Walked, and the Old Man of the Mountain, and the encounters she'd had with these beings, almost out of a tale. One wielded a blade that could chill the very stars, devour the sun and the hope of the future; one was a dragon who wore a human's shape and a thousand different faces, a being of fire and blood; and one was but a man, with his true name like ember and ash lost to the wind, through whom the Lords of the Dead laid claim to the souls of the living.

Shinji rather thought he knew who she meant, though he hadn't expected the children to be so enraptured by their stories, by something from the world outside. And…he hadn't expected her to be so good with children.

'_That…was not how I pictured her. At all. Not as Maeve, who took advantage of many students' lust, and not as Emilia…who is cold and professional.'_

What was the _tanuki's _real face, he wondered? Did _she_ even know herself? Or were they all real in some way?

After their stories, they made their way to the kitchen, where the two soldiers of Albion helped to make dinner for the kids, with the older ones helping out here and there.

The result was something pretty simple – a dish of linguini with sautéed mushrooms, onions and bacon, tossed with olive oil – as well as a hearty chicken soup, thick with vegetables and dumplings – something that was about at the upper limit of what Shinji felt comfortable with making, since he wasn't much good in the kitchen. Perhaps it was odd for a Master Brewer to admit so, but he liked to be honest about his faults, and well, compared to those who had taught him, he wasn't exactly a great cook.

Hell, even _Tohsaka_ was a better cook than he was, something he intended to remedy one of these days.

Still, however good he was – or wasn't – the children seemed to find his efforts acceptable, which he found heartening, especially since the greatest compliment to a chef was a clean plate.

As they ate, Emilia and Shinji answered a few more questions for the children, some of who were curious about WADA, some of who were wondering why Big Sis Emilia had brought a boy with her, and some wanting to touch his soft white-hair, wondering if it was natural.

One also asked how he could see through the blindfold, to which his reply was merely to say "magic"

All in all, it was a fun time, and by the time things wrapped up and the two said their goodbyes to the children, the sun had set, with the moon floating high above in the starry sky, bathing the Alley in which they walked with soft, pale light.

"I've never seen Diagon Alley like this before," the boy noted. He'd only come during the day, when the colors were distinct, and people were around. At night, when the stores were closed and the carts were gone, when the people had all gone home, it was far quieter.

A ghost town.

Or maybe a town of ghosts, after all the bloodshed that had occurred here.

This was a place of washed out colors and long shadows, of odd shapes and odd outlines that seemed almost _alien_ to his sensibilities.

'_Then again, they do call the hidden side of things the Moonlit World for a reason…'_

"No…I expect you haven't," Emilia responded quietly as they walked together slowly, though he didn't think she meant that it was just the moonlight. "Bit of a shock, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"I'd show you the Ministry but..."

"But...?"

"It's not safe. The Veil still isn't quite stable down there."

The boy shivered, perhaps due to the cold, perhaps due to remembering his encounter with Death, and how there was no place for "Matou Shinji" in the afterlife. If he was…destroyed, he supposed, would he have somewhere to go? Would he be reincarnated, as most humans were? Or would he merely…dissipate, as if he'd never existed to begin with?

'_I'm not a natural being, after all…I'm a construct. Not unlike those golems that fought with me in the Ministry.'_

A construct that thought of itself as Matou Shinji, and tried to act like what he remembered of the boy, though how well he succeeded…

He said none of this though, as he didn't feel like sharing his thoughts on the matter.

"Bit nippy," he observed instead, turning to the time-honored tactic of commenting on the weather.

"It is," Emilia agreed.

"You think casting a spell to keep myself warm would bring the Trace down on me?" he joked. "Well, if they knew what wand I use anyway."

"Even if they did, what would they do about it now? Send you a strongly worded letter?" the _tanuki_ shot back, making the boy laugh.

"Still...bit rude to be casting spells on myself."

"Well, if it's just a bit of warmth, you don't need a spell for _that_," Emilia murmured.

"Oh, what do you mean by that?" he asked, tilting his head.

She demonstrated by taking his arm.

"This, of course," Emilia noted playfully, with Shinji just shaking his head.

"Didn't you say something like this was against the Military Code?" the boy asked wryly.

"If we were doing anything intimate or improper, then yes, it would be, but I am merely lending my commander some warmth, so there is nothing inappropriate about this at all."

"…if you say so."

It takes some time as they walk in silence together, but eventually they reach the Leaky Cauldron, with Emilia letting go before they reach the brick facade.

"Thank you for coming with me today," she said formally. "It was…enjoyable enough."

"I didn't hate it myself, I guess," the boy replied. "Why the distance though? It's like you're not coming back to the manor tonight?"

"I'm not," was the answer. "I have a bit more to do tonight, as it happens. Stories to weave and fears to soothe, as well as a report to write."

Shinji raised an eyebrow at this.

"...back to the kids, then?"

"Someone has to look after them, and they're used to me being around," she noted simply. "I think it's because I was the one who first found them shelter after what happened."

Shinji blinked.

"What's someone like you doing taking care of children?"

"What needs doing, of course," came the response. "What, was it terrible, spending time with me, sharing some of my responsibilities? Spending time with the children?"

"I...no," Shinji denied. "Actually, I admit, it was more pleasant than I thought it would be."

"What, because the last time we spent time together before all of…this Albion business, you nearly died?"

"...well. Yes. The thought had crossed my mind," the boy admitted.

"Well, that was then. This is now," the tanuki said with a slight smile. "I'm willing to let the past be the past if you will."

"Only if the past doesn't become the present."

"No fear of that," she answered, chuckling. "After all, it was Maeve who did those terrible things, and am not her. For a time I was Hilde, but I answer to Emilia now."

"Mm, but what's in a name?" the boy asked. " A rose by any other name..."

He trailed off, frowning as he remembered what the next words in that line were.

"...would smell as sweet, was it?" she supplied impishly. "Why yes, I do believe that is the case. Goodnight, Nines. I will see you soon enough."

He bid her goodnight as he stepped through into the Leaky Cauldron, and out onto the street where was picked up and returned to his home, only to find Tohsaka waiting anxiously at the door.

* * *

"H-how was the day?" she asked, nervously. A moment later she added. "A-and where's Miss Emilia?"

"She's back in Diagon Alley, handling some business," the boy responded. "As for the day, it was pleasant enough. I enjoyed having the chance to see a different side of her and to ah, bury the hatchet with her, after some of the things that happened between us in the past."

"...I'm sure you enjoyed burying something in her," Rin muttered, almost – but not quite – too quietly for him to hear.

"What was that?" the boy asked, his voice almost – but not quite – threatening, as a part of him bridled at her defiance of his authority.

"N-nothing," the girl denied, looking away with a flush, only to find herself forced against the wall a moment later as the boy trapped her against it with his body and his arms. The closeness of him...the intensity of his gaze - it made her heart throb and made her feel weak in the knees. "M-matou, I..."

"Yes?" he whispered, his voice husky, almost...dangerous.

"I..."

"Mhm?" he asked, his voice almost a growl, sending a thrill down her spine. "What is it?"

"I..." She began, though her voice faltered as she looked at him. "Matou..."

"I won't know unless you tell me properly…"

"I...take me," she begged. "N-not her." She kicked her lips. "Not just her," she amended. "Take...take me..." she whimpered.

The boy's lips curved up into a cruel smirk.

"Alright," he murmured, leaning towards her as if to kiss her, only to pull away, leaving her almost desperate, wanting more, as he stepped back and looked her over. "I'll take you...just like I took her. To Diagon Alley. On the morrow, as we already agreed."

And with that he walked off, with Rin sinking to her knees as she watched him go.


	9. Breach of Contract

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 9. **_Breach of Contract_

After Matou left, presumably heading to his room, Tohsaka Rin remained by the door, her thoughts all a tizzy.

A date.

At long last, Matou was going to take her on a _date_, something he hadn't done for a very long time. In truth, she'd worried that he'd forgotten about her, surrounded as he was by western beauties and showered with as many honors as he had been.

To learn otherwise, to realize that he still cared – it was a thrilling thing indeed, a thought that left her breathless as she wondered what tomorrow would bring. What wonders tomorrow might hold…

Hold…

To be held in his strong embrace, caressed by his hands, kissed by his lips – yes, that was something she longed for with all her heart.

Tomorrow, to—

"Tohsaka?" a voice called out, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up, startled, to see Matou-kun in casual clothes, his hair still wet from the shower. "You're still here?"

"Um, I…yes," the girl said dumbly. "Matou…?"

"I was going to ask you to come up to my room, so we could continue our conversation from earlier, but if you're not up to it…"

"No! I…I'm up for it!" she exclaimed, getting to her feet at once. "Take me!" Shinji looked at her, raising an eyebrow as Tohsaka went red. "There I mean. Take me there."

"Heh, alright," Shinji replied, holding out his hand, which she took shyly. For Tohsaka Rin, being asked by Matou-kun if they could speak privately in his quarters was like a dream come true, given that she had dreamt of him doing exactly that for over a year now. Finally – _finally_ – it would be her turn to be welcomed to his suite, to be enjoyed, to be one with him.

This...this would be her first time seeing his room, being invited by him so...

_'Maybe Matou-kun was just trying to hide how much he cares about me from that...that bitch...'_

Yes. She understood now. _That _was why Matou had shut her down so rudely yesterday. He wanted to fool the busty white-haired older girl had been hanging on Matou-kun's every word into thinking that he had no special feelings for his childhood friend.

'_This Emilia is desperate. A bitch in heat using her_._..lumps of fat to try and confuse Matou-kun into going with a needlessly convoluted plan._ '

Westerners! So rude, so crass – always trying to show off. They weren't a very practical people, given how much they valued flash and spectacle over what worked, but she supposed that she knew that already.

As she walked up the stairs, with Matou beside her, Tohsaka Rin thought about the situation in which she found herself, and reflected that overall, things could be far worse.

Yes, the plan was going to fail. She knew it in the marrow of her bones, in the core of her being. By listening to the bitch in heat, and agreeing to something so complex and unwieldy, instead of just directly altering Granger's memories, Matou-kun was making a big, big mistake.

...after all, he wasn't any good at pretending to be someone else. His true nature always shone through. His kindness. His goodness as a human being.

Just like right now, when he was escorting her up the stairs, his hand warm against the small of her back, with the girl shivering at his touch, at how close he was. Soon, they would reach his room and then all the things she had dreamed about would become reality, with their bodies joining together in a night of passion as—

_Kyrielight._

Rin's blood ran cold as the door to Matou's suite opened, revealing the presence of the..._maid_, the thieving, ungrateful wench who acted as if she owned the house – and Matou as well.

'_He doesn't belong to you, you…_' There weren't words strong enough for what she wanted to call the outsider who didn't know her place, who dared to consort with someone so far above her station, using her body to win Matou over. _'Taking advantage of him when he was lonely. How…'_

Dishonorable, really. But then in her eyes, Mashu Kyrielight was quite a dishonorable woman, one who had seemed kind and gentle at first, only for her true nature to show through as the strawberry blonde began to abuse Matou's trust, only he never noticed – or perhaps had been too easily distracted by the maid's supple body.

Why was she here? Why was she in Matou's…

'_Well…a hero has…great appetites,'_ she reasoned, so perhaps Matou-kun wanted to have both of them at once? In the myths, Heracles had impregnated 50 women in a single night, so she supposed that Matou simply having two at once wasn't that special. His...desires were obviously more than any one person could sate, after all, and if he wanted her to enter a sordid world of pleasure...she wouldn't be _entirely_ opposed.

_'...I'll just have to show him how wonderful a good Japanese girl can feel, as opposed to one of the western cows who share his bed now and then,'_ she thought. True, she was inexperienced, but only a Japanese person could really understand what another wanted, right? _'Which is why he's finally decided to make me a woman. Maybe the maid is finally boring him...'_

Except that in the next few minutes, Tohsaka Rin's assumptions were proven to be mistaken, for the two took her not to a bedroom, but to what seemed like a private conference area, with Matou waving her to a chair, while Mashu remained by the door, as if guarding the room from intruders.

Which was silly, since it wasn't as if anyone else could come in without Matou's invitation.

"Tohsaka, your behavior yesterday was utterly out of line," the boy said without preamble, his harsh voice making her shudder. "As part of my squad – and a member of the Albion Home Guard - you are supposed to show a certain level of decorum – especially after I have made a command decision."

"Huh?" the girl asked eloquently, her expression confused as she was not in the least prepared for his criticism.

"And then there were your insinuations earlier this evening," the young Commander said, his tone as hard as iron. "Something about me burying something in Miss Emilia, hm?"

"I-I…you mean you're not?" the girl asked, swallowing as she dared to hope this meant-

"Of course, I'm not doing anything inappropriate with her," Shinji snapped. "That would be grossly unprofessional of me, especially since I am her superior. "

"…does that mean you would bury something in her if you _weren't _her superior?" she muttered before she could help herself. "No, I…that is…" she said, as she noticed Matou _glaring _at her. "I meant…"

"Oh, I know what you meant," the youth replied coolly. "You don't really have any confidence in me, do you, Tohsaka?" he asked. "You think that I'm not suitable for my position, that I'm just a man with a weakness for any pretty face."

"N-no, I...I'm just-"

"Then what are you saying?" the boy asked, visibly taking a deep breath as his posture relaxed. "Could you be saying that you don't want to be part of my squad, after all?" He smiled, but there was no mirth in that expression, only...pity. "After all, you haven't signed anything yet, unlike me. That means you're free to go, if you want." He shook his head. "In fact, maybe you should go back to Japan – it would be safer, and I'm not sure you'd be well-suited to tackle the challenges to come, not if you are so…inflexible."

Tohsaka Rin reeled at the boy's words, her head feeling faint as the person she idolized essentially told her that she was useless to him. '_No…' _she thought. _'No. Nononononono!' _Could it be...could it be he'd already replaced her with the...with the white-haired bitch?! That he'd invited her here not to make her a woman, but to let the maid witness her disgrace?!

"I—no! I...I…" she began, only for her voice to die in her throat. "W…" She swallowed, trying her best to not lose her ability to speak entirely. "Don't you want me...?" The "by your side" she left unspoken, as she thought it was obvious.

"Once, perhaps, but now..." the boy replied, as his eyes gave her a cold once over, as if finding her body lacking compared to the...assets of that Emilia. He shook his head. "Life happened. I grew up, and you…you didn't."

The words struck her like a punch in the gut.

"I…"

"It's my assessment that if you stay, things will be difficult for you. You'll struggle. You'll suffer – you might even die," He shrugged. "I don't really want your blood on my hands, so it's better if you leave while you have the chance."

Those cold words were like knives of pure ice stabbing into her chest, almost making her pass out as they ripped through her, one after the next. As a magus, she had a high pain tolerance, but this...this cut her to the quick, as hot, heavy tears welled up at the corner of her eyes.

"No! Please...don't send me away!" Rin begged, trying to stifle her sobs, having heard that men hated to see women who were crying. "Please. I...I don't want...all I want...I just..." She sniffed, her head bowing. "Please...by your side. I just want to be...by your side."

They'd promised..._he'd_ promised that he would walk together with her, watching her back as he trusted her to watch his. His words – his kindness – his acceptance of her being who she was when everyone else seemed to think that Tohsaka Rin was no good, those had been all that had let her persist, despite the abuse the puppeteer had put her through, despite the disdain and scorn with which El Melloi had treated her, despite the strange looks and cutting words her peers at The tower had thrown at her, calling her a savage, a barbarian, a fake/imitation Edelfelt...

For a long, terrible moment, Matou just looked at her with his terrible eyes, as slitted golden pupils glaring out from grey, saying nothing.

_'...mystic eyes?! Does he have some kind of...'_

"...is that so?" he whispered. "So be it." He looked over to Mashu, who simply dipped her head slightly and made her way to a filing cabinet in the corner, which she opened, retrieving a single thin folder from it. The maid – or was she Matou's sex…er, secretary too now? – walked over to the Japanese girl and placed the folder before her, before stepping back. "In that case, read and sign this."

"I...this is...?"

"A contract," the boy replied diffidently. "One which includes within it certain guidelines expectations for behavior, as well as other details relating to your right, privileges and responsibilities as a member of the Home Guard of Albion. Be careful – once you sign that, you are bound to service until your term of enlistment is up. This is your last chance to walk away. If you don't, leaving won't be an option. Or well, it will, but that would be desertion, and desertion is punishable by..."

"...by..."

"Nothing pleasant, Tohsaka."

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sounds of her breathing.

"It…is this a magical—"

"No. It is merely paper and ink, but don't think that means that means you are any safer if you violate the terms therein," Shinji said stoically. "The First Citizen is not a man to trifle with."

"But…what if he doesn't know."

"He'll know."

"...and if I don't sign?"

"Then it would be best if you went back to Japan," the boy responded, looking off at nothing in particular. "Before you get yourself killed."

"...no! I won't leave you like that! I..."

The girl broke down then, all sorts of words spilling from her lips as she spoke about her dreams. Not the raunchy ones either. Her nightmares. Nightmares of the boy dying over and over and over...

One time she'd seen him getting ripped apart by a giant tendril of light.

Once, she'd seen him burned to cinders while facing some monstrous being.

Once, she seen him sliced to pieces as the very wind became blades and tore him limb from limb, reducing him to a bloody mist.

Crushed by a mountain.

Incinerated by hellfire.

Drowning in a twisted darkness.

Being turned to stone by a white-haired...

The girl's eyes went wide as she remembered that dream, one that her...Master had used to remind her of how pathetically weak she was, how her lack of intelligence and insight would lead to Matou dying alone in a strange place, when one day his cleverness failed him and there was no one to watch his back.

_'That...bitch. She'll kill him...won't she?'_

Was that what her dreams were telling her?

She didn't know - couldn't know, really, but one thing was clear - if she didn't sign, if she just left Matou behind - she was sure she'd never see him again. That he would be lost to her forever...

Realizing this, the girl knew there was only one thing to do.

She signed, sliding the folder over to Matou.

"I see," Shinji noted heavily. "It is done then. You are now officially a member of the Home Guard, and are bound by its rules." He frowned. "I will give you a copy of the Code we are to follow, but you should know several things: that we are not magi, and so do not abide by the practices magi often do; that we are broken into squads, with you reporting to me, and I reporting to others; and that while some missions may call for ruthlessness, some may call for subtlety, or at the least, remembering that people are people, not empty vessels for you to manipulate or experiment on."

"I...I would never!"

Shinji raised a hand to forestall further protest.

"I'm not saying you would, but it is a mindset other magi hold, no?"

...this...was true. Certainly, the dirty red puppeteer was one of those sociopathic magi...

"I...I won't disappoint you," Rin murmured, looking the boy in the eye. "I'll read the terms. I'll make sure to be someone you can use so…use me. However you want."

Shinji winced, letting out a heavy sigh.

"...ah yes, that's what I was forgetting."

"Huh?"

"The armed forces of Albion have...a non-frater...nization policy for those in the same chain of command," the boy explained, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. "That means that...ah, commanders may not have intimate relations with their subordinates, and vice versa." He shook his head.

"Wait. What?!" Rin squawked, not having read all of the fine print before she signed.

"I...I hate to admit it, but they do have a point," the boy said ruefully. "If a commander became involved with a member of his or her squad, they wouldn't be able to be objective – or at least, people would believe that, and it would probably cause issues with the rest of the squad."

"Oh," Rin murmured in a very small voice, before she remembered something. "B-but you..."

"But I what?"

"You and Emilia…you went on a date, watching a play, eating ice cream together and everything! She was even clinging to you, and you seemed so happy about it!"

"Huh?" The boy asked, taken aback by this accusation. "That was…" And then Matou Shinji's eyes narrowed as he processed the rest of her sentence. "How do you know what we did during our outing?" he questioned, leaning close to the girl as she swallowed, her heart beating harder and harder in her chest.

"I—"

"You spied on me, didn't you, _magus_?" he all but _hissed, _as Rin began to tremble at his closeness, and not in a good way, as his golden eyes stared into hers_._

"I…"

"Yes or no?"

"I—"

"It's a simple question, _magus. Yes or no?"_

"…yes."

"At least you admit it," the boy growled, his tone low and dangerous. "For future reference, such behavior is not acceptable. We do not spy on one another. That is _not_ what is done in a squad."

"But you…Emilia…date."

"Oh, _that_?" the commander sneered. "That was a figure of speech, Tohsaka. What you saw wasn't a date – it was just an outing with a squadmate. Though even if we weren't squadmates, I wouldn't date her."

"Um...can I trust your words?" the girl murmured.

"The spy is asking me about _trust_ now," Shinji questioned, incredulous. "Now that's funny. If you ask whether or not I find her attractive, I certainly do, but whether I'd date her…look, the last time we were alone together, she almost killed me."

"Huh?!" Rin almost jumped out of her seat, her fear of Matou replaced with fear _for _him when he said this. "Wh-what do you mean she almost killed you? You…you know each other from before…all this?"

"Yes. We were enemies before she started working for Lockhart," Shinji explained. "She...hurt someone I was protecting. Quite a bit, in fact. I went after her, with a few others for backup. It...well, we won, but I can't say it went particularly well. Not after she nearly ripped me in two."

The magus looked very, very worried by this.

"She…Matou..." she whispered as she looked at him.

"Ah, maybe I shouldn't have said that," the boy answered, frowning, as he waved the words away and collected the folder. "That's in the past anyway. Plenty of people have done worse to me, and she's...she's a different person now."

"You...you don't think she'll try to hurt you again? To get...revenge?" the girl murmured.

"I don't think so," Shinji stated, shaking his head. "We're on the same side now, so it wouldn't do her any good anyway. I...look, I might not trust her completely, but I trust the First Citizen. He...he saved the lives of some of my friends once, and has helped me out more than I deserve. So if he assigned her to this squad, I'm going to have some confidence in her, no matter what happened before."

"Even if she tried to kill you?"

"She won't be the first, and she won't be the last," the boy replied, with a chuckle. "Besides, there's something rather _charming_ about people who are...dangerous, hm?" His expression softened, as he seemed to think of something – or maybe _someone_. "Even you could be dangerous, you know – one day, but right now, you're a hatchling in a nest, and there's only one way to see if you will fly or fall."

Rin swallowed.

"...what's that?"

"Why, to push, so you have a chance to spread your wings." He snorted. "I'm not trying to be harsher on you than I have to, but you have to learn, Tohsaka. If you don't, you'll die. Oh, I'll feel bad about not being able to save you, but that won't change the fact that you'll be gone. Your soul eaten by a dementor, or your body torn apart by a giant or...something. That's war, you know. You or them. But even in war, there are rules - or there should be."

"Rules? Even in war?"

"Yes. _Especially_ in war...they're the only things keeping us from becoming the monsters we fight. They're not always easy to keep, but they're not meant to be," he mused aloud. "Just like rules – and respect – are the only things that will keep us working as a squad, and not just as individuals working against one another."

"I..."

"That's all for now. Tomorrow, I'll take you to see Magical London," he asked. "For now, you're dismissed."

"But-"

"Tohsaka, you're dismissed. I'm tired and need some time alone with Mashu, if you don't mind?"

"I..." the girl began, but shut her mouth. "Goodnight, Matou," she said instead, getting up and making her way to the door, throwing Mashu a cold glance as she did.

The maid-secretary-whatever she was, said nothing, merely opening the door and ushering the girl out of first the conference room and then the suite entirely, before closing it behind her, leaving her to wonder what the morrow would hold.

* * *

What it held, apparently, were oddities and wonders, with Tohsaka Rin – dressed in her usual ensemble of sweater, miniskirt, and thigh-highs, feeling rather out of place amidst the throngs of people in Diagon Alley wearing cloaks, the oddly archaic architecture (or what was left of it after the attack), and the presence of so many non-humans, like monsters from out of fairy tales.

She gaped, as she saw them just walking about as if they owned the place, with none of the robed figures seeming to regard this as remarkable in any way. That, to her was _bizarre, _especially given that they were tucked away in the very heart of London, not a half hour's tube ride to the Tower.

How…how could such a place exist? How could it be allowed to exist? Wasn't this the Age of Man? How could humans subordinate themselves to monsters?

Or were they monsters?

The girl nearly yelped in surprise when she first saw a goblin crew working on clearing out some rubble and sifting for valuables, noting how one was looking at her as if she was a tasty piece of meat.

She shuddered, imagining that…_creature_ pawing her with its grubby hands…

_These things_ were what she'd have to work with?

No, perhaps they were all a mage's familiars, and that a single mage was in charge of them all? It was a possibility that occurred to her, one that she voiced to her companion – unfortunately enough, within the hearing of a rather well-armed goblin passing by, who acidly commented that he was no wizard's _pet_.

"Are these...people then? What happened to them to make them like this?" she muttered to herself. "Was there some kind of accident which twisted them into what they are now?"

The goblin just stared at her.

"Kindly keep your words to yourself, girl, and so I'll keep my knives," he said curtly, before turning away. "Or don't."

"Sir goblin, I would ask that you do not threaten my guest."

"And who might you be?" the goblin questioned.

"An officer of the Home Guard, in service to the First Citizen," the boy responded, with the goblin nodding and taking a step back.

"Ah, one of the Oathkeeper's men," the goblin said. "My…apologies for my harsh words, though your companion seems…new to magic from the way she stares at beings like me."

"Hey! That's—"

"...Tohsaka, stop. Please. They're goblins – they're a very proud people," the boy explained hastily. "They've run the economy of this hidden world – for decades."

"Centuries," the goblin corrected.

"...centuries," Shinji amended. "They even run the bank."

"Hmph, well, you at least seem an educated man, Mister…?"

"Nines," Shinji replied, with a nod. "My apologies for my companion's poor manners, Master..."

"Grimlok," the goblin supplied, noting the courtesy of the other. "Grimlok the Iron Monger."

"Have a pleasant day, Master Grimlok."

"And you, servant of the Oathkeeper," Grimlok nodded, and with that he walked off, leaving Rin even more confused on why _Matou_, a commander in the Home Guard, was showing respect to some _creature_. One which had threatened them with violence, no less!

"Ma—Nines," she corrected herself, remembering that the boy had insisted on being called by that alias when he was out in public, wearing his blindfold, black coat, and slacks, with his hair turned to silver. The name, he told her, came from the Latin n_on esse – _non-being, or non-existence, only which seemed rather morbid to her, though perhaps it simply reflected the fact it wasn't really him. Of course, the prefix of non- could also mean ninth or nine, so…that was how he derived nine esse or Nines. "Why…?"

"…Tohsaka, you need to be careful. This isn't a place where humans are necessarily in charge," Nines cautioned. "In fact, some of the more powerful beings we'll be dealing with, the First Citizen aside, won't be human."

"Dealing with, as in—"

"Working with, but also fighting," he noted. "Goblins make up a decent proportion of the armed forces of Albion, in fact."

"Oh," Rin noted, shuddering. The thought was not a welcome one, but if she had to endure it, she would. She'd promised Matou, after all.

Still, she was less than comfortable when Shinji walked her over to Gringotts and told one of the tellers that she would be needing an appointment to discuss compensation as part of her service to the Oathkeeper.

"Can you…come with me?" Tohsaka asked, wanting him to be present in case she encountered something strange – something which put her out of her depth, as sometimes happened.

"No, this is your future, so it's up to you," Nines spoke, the corners of his lips curving into an almost cruel smile. "Fly or fall. It's up to you."

"Please…"

"If you can't handle something as simple as this, how do you expect to ever walk with me?" he asked simply, something which made the girl flinch.

"Ok," she whispered, before the account goblin led her off to negotiate her compensation package.

Fortunately, as a servant of the Oathkeeper, whoever that was, it seemed little negotiation was actually necessary, with the goblin laying out the basic options, such as gold, British pounds, gems, and other such, with a small pile of each as an example of what she would receive a month, with the gems being flawless, very well cut, and rather larger than what she was used to.

For Tohsaka Rin, there was no real choice to be made there, or rather, the choice was obvious.

"Gems," she said at once, and was delighted when she received a small pouch of semi-precious stones as an advance on her first paycheck. She had been needing some good amethysts and topazes, especially since she'd, ah…used up some of the former for…various reasons.

Personal reasons.

Reasons that had nothing to do with say, spying on Matou during his outing with Emilia yesterday. Or trying to tail the maid when she left the house. Not that she'd met with much success in the latter, since her amethyst owls had tended to get harassed by birds whenever she tried to follow the maid anywhere beside the British Museum – and she knew better than to have her familiar violate the territory around the museum.

Still, with this advance, and the promise of more in the future, she now had a reasonable – and renewable - supply of gems to draw upon, she felt reassured that whatever she burned through, there would be more.

'_I'll find out your secrets, little maid, and what you want with Matou. You can't hide forever.'_

The account goblin escorted her back to the lobby after their discussion, where Matou asked her what she'd chosen. She shyly showed him her pouch of gems, with the boy looking at them appraisingly for a moment, as if drawn in by their lustre, before nodding.

"A suitable choice," he commented. "Well done."

Those words, simple as they were, filled her with warmth. He'd…praised her. He really had.

That he let her watch a play, and even bought ice cream for her, after her ordeal at the bank, also made her feel all warm and tingly inside.

Following that, Matou decided to lead her towards Vertic Alley, which in his words, had better weathered the attack, mostly because the goblins – and the First Citizen – had held off any enemies who had attempted to head into that area.

The boy described the place as a center for trade, and crafting, unlike Diagon Alley, which had mostly been a retail hub for people who were making simple purchases, like students who needed school supplies, like books, potions materials, or a wand.

"A wand?" Rin echoed. "You mentioned that people here need wands for any sort of spell, but they get them so early?"

"Well, if someone is going to be taught how to cast spells, they need to be able to do so in the first place, right?" Shinji questioned.

"Right…"

"Which reminds me, we need to get you a wand so you fit in," the boy noted, looking her over. "Possibly some clothes as well, though I think what I gave you for Christmas will do."

"…the dress that Emilia just happens to have a copy of?"

"Well, yes."

"Why should I have to wear the same dress as her?!" Rin exclaimed, with Shinji turning her to her, blinking.

"What, you don't want to match with me?" Shinji questioned, allowing a bit of faux-hurt to seep into his voice.

"N-no, that's not what I meant. It's…it's just odd wearing the same dress as someone else."

Especially someone else she didn't really like.

Shinji sighed.

"Just think of it like a school uniform, Tohsaka," the boy grumbled. "We _are_ a military unit, so we will be needing to dress somewhat alike. Besides, I think it would look lovely on you."

"O-oh, ok."

Rin was silent for a little bit, before she spoke up about something else. Since he'd mentioned a wand, she imagined she could probably build one, especially with Professor Lev's help, and so she had some questions about what would be best for her.

"I could just make a wand, but…" she frowned. "Yours is far more _impressive_, with how big it can get."

"It is a rather nice implement, isn't it?" Shinji questioned, finding himself in a good mood. "Still, its not the size that matters, but how you used it."

"You used it…very skillfully," Rin commented, blushing slightly. "You're far more…experienced, than I am," she conceded, licking her lips. "You really made a mess of me back then, with that staff of yours. You must be as strong as the Monkey King himself with a weapon like that."

Shinji chuckled.

"I wouldn't go _quite_ that far," the boy replied, shaking his head. "I might be good, but I'm hardly an expert with a staff. Not compared people like Sondrol, anyway."

"Sondrol?"

"Rachelle Sondrol, Champion of Durmstrang," the boy related, thinking back to the last time he'd seen her – only a month ago or so it seemed. "A statuesque maiden with flowing red hair, bright green eyes, and quite the aura. Now, s_he_ was an expert with a staff. Compared to her, I'm just a novice, just as you are one compared to me."

"It sounds like she was beautiful, too," Rin commented.

"Oh, she was that," Shinji agreed, not noticing the bitter look of envy that flitted across his companion's face as he said this. "And a natural leader. All at Durmstrang seemed happy to serve under her."

He pretended not to hear when Tohsaka made some comment about sound like he wanted to be under her, since if he admitted to hearing, he'd have to punish her, and that would make him feel good for all the wrong reasons.

"Just so you know, Tohsaka," he said lightly. "I do have fairly good hearing, so I would be careful about saying things that I would need to respond to as your Commander." Out of the corner of his eye, he noted her stiffen, and knew that his point had been made. "Anyway, I assume there's a reason you brought up my staff?"

"Yes," the girl admitted, proceeding to ask him for advice on what form the Code should take, since even if he wasn't the most experienced person, he was certainly more experienced than she was, and this would be her first time making such a thing.

'_Well, if she's asking, I guess I should take this seriously,' _Shinji mused, recalling how poorly his advice for her to 'be herself' had turned out. "Well, you probably shouldn't make a staff, especially not one like mine. It would be too complex for you to attempt to make in a short amount of time, and even if you managed it, learning to use it is another ordeal in itself."

"Oh."

"You want something that will go with the skills you already have," he continued. "Something that you might be able to use if you need to get in close with bajiquan, but that won't impede you from acting at range."

"Like what?"

"Well, like a katar," the boy suggested, having had some experience/thoughts on exotic bladed weaponry. "Or some kind of gauntlet, I guess. Maybe you could put in several stones in it too, like one for each finger, so you have access to five spells or elements, as an Average One – though you'd need really good quality stones," he said more seriously. "The gauntlet might be a good idea, actually, since right now, your Crest is exposed, which means someone with good aim could stop you from casting pretty quickly – or take off your arm – if they were fighting you seriously."

Rin blinked.

"...people do that?" she asked, looking rather aghast at the suggestion. A magus' crest was...well, it was more valuable than their lives, for if it was stolen or destroyed, then generations of effort would be lost. For someone to deliberately target one...that would be something only a monster would do.

(Or well, Aozaki Touko, who did have a habit of capturing other magi and modifying their crests for her use, but then, to say that would be repeating what had been said before).

(...or the Church, which during the war with the Association had made a point of destroying the Crests of any magi they fought to keep their enemy weak).

"They do," Shinji confirmed with a troubled nod. "That and worse." He shook his head, as his gray eyes looked off into the distance, as he recalled some of the "worse."

"Like what?"

"It wouldn't do you any good if I just told you – you wouldn't understand unless you'd been there," the boy muttered, refusing to explain further. "What I saw, what I went through...it changed me. The person I was...died on that island," he said, his voice solemn. "Me as I am now...I'm different from who I was. I'm not the person you remember, Tohsaka – I couldn't go back to being that person, even if I wanted to."

"Oh..." Rin noted hollowly, not quite understanding. "Anything else?"

"Well, you're an Average One, and I'm not, so I can't really say too much more. Just from what I've seen...wind is one of the most useful elements there is," he said, recalling all the times and all the ways Luna had turned lifegiving air into deadly blades. "And well, I can't think badly of Earth either, since that's what I make use of most."

...at least, in fusion and as he used to be. Nowadays, he found himself enjoying fire a good bit, but...he couldn't let his personal feelings get in the way of giving proper advice.

"It will still take you some time to make a wand, so I guess I'll buy one for you."

"I—you don't have to—"

"I want to," Shinji replied, with a smile. "Besides, the First Citizen did say I could requisition some items for my squad, so it's more that he's buying."

He'd just have to justify the expense.

"Ok," Rin said shyly. "Lead on."

So Matou Shinji did, with their footsteps taking them to new market area near the new government building, and to a mysterious shopkeeper dressed in robes much like those the Stonecutters had once worn, complete with the distinctive cowl and red belt, though his were white, not grey.

* * *

"A wand, you say?" the man Shinji was speaking to about obtaining such an item for his companion asked, looking the boy and his companion up and down. "Not from around these parts, I take it?"

"You could tell by looking?" Shinji asked, with the other looking wryly at him, his eyes an odd shade of blue as he regarded the boy, looking from his head to his...arm. The one where he wore his hidden blade in fact.

"I can tell many things by looking, which is one reason the Mentor trusts me so. You though...how odd that you would hide your true face, but I suppose you have your reasons, brother," the man noted, shaking his head. "You have come a long way to be here."

"Not that far – I do live in the city, after all," Shinji joked, to which the man smiled thinly.

"I did not mean that, child of earth and scales, but I take your meaning," the hooded figure replied, with Shinji stiffening as he registered what the man had called him. "Is the wand for yourself, or for your lovely companion?"

"Um, it is for my companion, Miss...R-" Shinji's mind went blank for a moment. "Uh, Li-uv-mi. Miss Lumi...Edelfelt."

Rin looked at him in shock, wondering why Shinji was calling her this odd name, only for him to gesture for her to play along and act natural - not that she got the signal.

"Why—"

"What my companion means to say is that she misplaced her wand some time ago, and requires one for her duties here in Britain, as part of the Home Guard," Shinji replied, attempting to act friendly while gesturing for Tohsaka to be silent. "I uh...I wish to requisition a wand for her use."

"I see," the man noted slowly. "A proper wand for a witch – or simply a wand-type Mystic Code?"

"A...wait, what?" Shinji's mouth nearly fell open in shock, as he hadn't expected to hear that sort of thing in Wizarding London, much less in the small shopping area near the Albion government building, where certain subsidized goods and services were provided. "How do you...?"

"I can tell many things by looking," the man repeated, to which Shinji could only nod. "You wish to see my wares?"

"...why not?" the boy asked. "Show me what you have."

"Very well," the man noted, bowing slightly as he retreated into his stall. Some moments later, he emerged with a jet-black dagger. "Perhaps I could interest you in a dagger-wand of dragon-glass?" he asked. "An interesting weapon shaped from still molten obsidian, it boosts the weight of curses and the heat of flames."

He placed it down on the counter, giving Shinji a chance to examine it, with something in the boy's nature seeming to _hum_ as he touched it.

"A good fit?" the man inquired.

"For me, it would be, but I'm not here to requisition something for me," the boy stated, shaking his head. "Something else, please."

"As you wish."

The next item to be shown was an ornately-carved wand the color of ivory, or perhaps it _was_ ivory, as the shopkeeper explained that it had been wrought from the tusk of some great beast, with its properties being that it amplified "the solid and the heavy."

"What do you…?"

"It sings of the earth, of shaping, of strengthening, and of weight," the man explained. "Is this one to your liking?"

"Lumi?"

Rin came forward and took it into her hands, as Shinji gestured for the shopkeeper to bring forth more wondrous items.

And bring them forth he did, with some of the most notable being…

…a ring of what seemed like ice mixed with ash, set with a single white-blue diamond, amplifying control over that which flows and that which shambles (or, in more conventional terms, boosting the power of "flow" type elements – wind and water, as well as providing a boost to spells aligned with necromancy).

…a set of gloves, wrought of some shimmering black material reminiscent of scales, which apparently could drain the prana of those it touched, other than the wearer, and boosted the power of magic involving blood.

…a wand carved from the burl of an English Wych Elm and the horn of an Al-mi'raj, with the wood slotting into grooves carved into the horn, providing a slight boost to all elements, and a bonus to magical detection.

…and of course, the _pièce de résistance, _a staff which seemed to sing as it moved through the air, whispering of ancient mysteries. It was wrought of some strange crystalline material, its color changing depending on the angle one looked at it from, and apparently not only boosted the power of any spell one cast, but was…malleable in some ways, allowing one to slot in gems to improve it.

"That, and it is said to grant the wielder the ability to cast more quickly," the shopkeeper noted.

"You don't mean…high speed incantation?" Shinji whispered, his voice dry. Could there…could there really be an item which granted such a skill?

"That is the name by which Westerners often call it, yes," the man noted. "It was rather…difficult to come by, I must say."

"How _did_ you come by it?"

"A former Mentor of mine claimed it from the hand of his mortal foe."

"…and where did _he_ obtain it?"

"The material of which it is wrought comes from South America, but who crafted it, and into whose hands it fell, before it passed into those of my former Mentor's foe, I do not know," the shopkeeper noted.

"Ah."

Glancing back at Rin, he could see her looking at the staff with a terrible sort of longing, the look on her face almost desperate as she looked at it. For a moment he was tempted to requisition it for her, but it was only for a moment, given that he didn't think this was something Tohsaka could use well, nor that Lockhart would considered it even close to a justified expense.

"…have you decided what you will buy for your companion?" the shopkeeper asked mildly.

"…yes, I'll requisition the wand she's holding now," Shinji stated. "The one carved from a great tusk. The others can be put away."

Rin's eyes seemed to follow the staff as the man took it to the back of his stall, until he secured it in a rather large chest and closed the lid.

"Huh?" Tohsaka murmured, seemingly coming out of a trance as the item left her line of sight. "Did you say something, Ma—Nines?"

"Yes, I said I'm requisitioning the wand you're holding," the boy supplied with a smile. "You didn't hear me?"

"O…oh, no, I didn't." She swallows. "Oh, so…not the staff?"

"…I don't think I'd be able to justify that, no. Perhaps sometime in the future, Tohsaka," the boy said diplomatically. It was best to give one's subordinates something to aspire to, even if he never intended to actually make good on giving her a chance to acquire the item.

The shopkeeper – an Assassin, Shinji was quite sure, returned from the back of the stall after putting away the other items and nodded, filling in the wand's information on a blank requisition form, with Shinji glimpsing...rather more zeros than he'd expected to see for a wand. Apparently, good Mystic Codes weren't cheap...something he'd have to keep in mind for the future, though at least he wasn't paying with his own money.

"While you are here, will you be needing to requisition anything else? Perhaps something for yourself, or another member of your squad?" the man asked.

"Like what?" Shinji inquired, curious as to what manner of wares the man was offering aside from wands and codes.

"Various things that may be useful for someone in your position," the man noted, turning to a case he had behind the counter. A fairly well-secured case, if the locks and such were any indication. "You are somewhat uncertain about the mission you are to undertake, and your role in it."

"Err...that's not entirely wrong," the boy conceded. "I guess I'm not very good at hiding it."

"Perhaps you are, perhaps you are not, but I am not one from whom much can be hidden," came the reply. "In any case, here is what I have. Whether for yourself or for another, is up to you. You have three members in your squad – you can choose up to that many items to requisition."

The man proceeded to show him some curiosities, like a set of restraints that sapped the magical energy of the restrained and disrupted their ability to use circuits or core, an amulet providing protection from mental assault and detection, effectively making him invisible to a scan via legilimency, a Neverending Thermos of Coffee (not the best quality, but for late nights, sometimes quantity was a quality of its own), grenades which apparently wiped away spell effects in a given radius (like a portable Thief's Downfall), and grenades which created bubble shields where they landed, allowing for quick deployment of a defensive structure to protect a group.

"These are all very tempting," Shinji mused. "How to choose."

"Usually, what is most useful for the mission."

"Mm, well in that case…"

Coffee, to be sure, knowing how Tohsaka needed an infusion of caffeine in the morning to even be functional.

Aside from that, something to protect him from mental assault might be useful as well, as while he didn't fear physical threats, he wanted ways to better hide his nature.

He said as much to the shopkeeper, who selected the items for him.

"Excellent choices," the man noted, his eyes looking at the Thermos when he says this. "Being able to be awake, alert, and aware of one's surroundings is always a useful thing, no matter at what age, or what assignment one is on." He glanced between the two. "It seems you are an outing, so if you wish, I am happy to deliver the requisition form for you."

"Ah, who would you be delivering it to?"

"The Mentor's secretary," the man replied, seeming slightly amused as Shinji's expression took on a hint of interest, with his companion seeming...alarmed by this sudden shift. "Do I take it you wish to deliver it yourself, brother?"

"No need to trouble yourself, brother," Shinji stated solemnly. "I will bear the form to our Mentor's secretary."

With that, he said his goodbyes, handing Rin the thermos, which she took, though the entire exchange left her rather curious. It was true that Tohsaka Rin might be naive to the wonders and realities of the world. She might be a new trainee, a novice to combat and military command structures (and expected behaviors. She might even be insecure and in need of quite a bit of attention and polish to make her a worthwhile addition to a squad – or a competent magus – but one thing she was not, was stupid.

As such, there was something that was bothering her about the interaction with the shopkeeper.

"Um...why did he call you his brother?" the girl asked Shinji.

The boy smiled slightly, deciding that perhaps this was something Rin just didn't need to know for the moment. After all, he wasn't sure that Lockhart knew that he knew (though the man probably did), and wasn't at all sure that the man would want Tohsaka to know about the involvement of the Assassins here.

"Classified," was thus his response. Not one that made her particularly happy, but it was one she would have to learn to accept.

* * *

Following the man's directions, Shinji proceeded into Albion's government building, where he and his companion were stopped at a security checkpoint. There, they were required to surrender his wand and other weapons, before stepping though an archway filled with mist.

He went through first, of course, his form wavering for a moment, as he did, with Shinji having the unpleasant thought that his nature might have been exposed. _'Huh - precautions to catch disguised imposters, huh. Or polyjuiced individuals.'_ The goblin on duty only nodded, though, asking what his purpose visiting the inner office was, to which Shinji mentioned that he had a requisition form to deposit, which the security goblin examined briefly before giving the boy back his wand and weapons, and giving his approval for Shinji to proceed.

Tohsaka, sadly, had quite a bit more trouble, with her protests about surrendering her new wand and her obvious agitation at being forced to walk through a magical construct raising the hackles of the security staff at the checkpoint.

"No, I—I refuse! Why should I have to…" she sputtered, only for her protests fell silent as small sapphire-colored bird-shaped familiars came from beyond the checkpoint and surrounded her like an angry swarm.

"Sapphire..." Rin whispered, feeling utterly numb as the swarm seemed to brush against her, draining the strength from her. Yes...one could use sapphire instead of amethyst when making familiars, given that sapphires were a sign of wisdom, but the expense…

That aside, with as many familiars as there were around her, that was enough firepower to wipe her from the face of the earth without much of an effort.

And then the swarm spoke.

_**"Miss Tohsaka, for your own sake, please cooperate with Security,"**_ a stern voice said from within the swarm, with Rin swallowing at it identified her by name. _**"Follow the security procedures and you will not be harmed. Resist, and we cannot guarantee your safety."**_

"I...I'll cooperate," the young, rather magus said quietly. "Just please...please don't hurt me."

It hurt her to bow like this, to acknowledge in public that yet another person was more powerful than her, especially when Matou could see it and was probably judging her, but while magi walked with death, no competent magus eagerly ran to embrace it. And that was all she would accomplish by resisting – die an ignoble death, without having accomplished anything – die a virgin, even, not even having given her first time to the person she loved.

Still, at her assent, the swarm parted, allowing her to surrender her items and proceed through the security checkpoint, where she passed through the mist-filled archway, which seemed innocuous enough, but left her feeling weak - almost violated - as it had disrupted her prana circulation. Only for a moment, granted, but...

_'Just who are these people?'_ she wondered. People who could afford sapphires large enough to make into familiars, who had the skill to use them as such...people who purposely made constructs to disrupt a magus' prana, leaving them vulnerable, stripping them of their defenses, people who could use that sort of staff of crystal.

Her mind jumped to one very unpleasant conclusion, given that there was one family she knew who would be both rich enough to afford such sapphires and skilled enough in jewelcraft to use them for security - given their properties in revealing treachery and seeing past illusions - as well as very likely knowing who she was.

The Edelfelts.

Were they involved here? She knew they were mercenaries, and were willing to work for a fee, so had they accepted a contract from this Albion, from its First Citizen? But why...why would a family so powerful...?

She didn't know, and frankly that terrified her like little else, especially since she knew that family had a grudge against hers ever since the Third Grail War. Almost unconsciously, her hand touched her left arm, where her Crest was. Hopefully the price of the contract wasn't to deliver her into their hands...but if it was, Matou-kun would protect her, right? He'd promised...promised he'd always walk beside her. Promised to be there for her, to watch her back, as she watched his.

Tohsaka was quiet, even meek, as she collected her items and rejoined Matou, who seemed almost gentle to her as he checked to make sure she was ok after her ordeal. Together, the two proceeded through the headquarter complex, eventually coming to a rather spacious second floor, which seemed to be comprise of a rather lush, green atrium surrounded by a ring of offices, with watchful goblins by each door.

"Huh...this is different," Shinji noted, though he had little time to look around, as a rather stunning young woman with blue flowers woven into her white-blonde hair, stepped out of one of the offices.

_'She...'_

"Matou...what's that Emilia doing here?!" Tohsaka hissed in his ear. "And why is she wearing...that?!"

The _'that'_ in question was a rather exquisite ensemble of white and gold and blue that made the woman look most regal indeed.

_'Hm, she does rather look like Emilia, which means she must be the First Citizen's—'_

"Stop staring at her chest," Tohsaka pleaded, grabbing the boy's hand. "We're not-we're here to see—"

"Miss Suoirtsulli, I presume," the boy called out, waving to the woman, who responded with an elegant curtsy.

"Indeed. A pleasure to meet you, Squad Commander," the woman replied, her voice surprisingly delicate. "I understand you have a requisition form to hand in?"

Shinji raised an eyebrow.

"How did you know?"

"I heard it from the goblin at the checkpoint, of course."

"Ah," Shinji uttered. That made sense - he supposed they would have some system of communication. Though... "You're passing it to someone else, I take it?"

"Indeed, to our Logistics Branch," the woman stated, turning and gesturing for Shinji to follow, with the boy finding her the fluidity and sensuality of her movements quite alluring indeed. "Come, this way."

"Why are we doing this?" Rin demanded, skidding to a halt and pulling Shinji with her. "Playing along with her farce?"

"...what farce?" Shinji asked, with Miss Suoirtsulli pausing and turning at the girl's outburst.

"A farce, Miss Tohsaka?"

"She's obviously Miss Emilia, not...not whoever this Miss Suoirtsulli is supposed to be! She's not even trying to look like someone else," the magus cried, as the goblins around the room looked at her as one, obviously assessing the girl as a possible threat.

"Tohsaka, she's not-"

"I'm not blind, Matou! Stop trying to convince me this isn't-" And then the girl went silent, her face pale with terror as a swarm of small sapphire-colored bird-shaped familiars appeared around the regally dressed woman. "Oh."

The woman merely _looked_ at her, a mote of displeasure on her delicate features, yet that was enough to make Tohsaka tremble even as her feet were rooted to the ground with terror.

"Miss Tohsaka," the First Citizen's secretary stated flatly. "There is a time and place for you to voice what concerns you may have, and a proper manner in which to voice them. Your actions today, both at the checkpoint and now, show a marked lack of awareness of this fundamental principle, as well as of your position as an enlisted member of the Home Guard. For your commander to requisition you the items he did is a privilege, and yet you disgrace him and yourself through your uncouth behavior."

"I..."

"You will wait here, in the atrium, while your Commander and I discuss your behavior - and any other business he may have here - in my office," the young woman continued, her icy blue gaze seeming to piece Tohsaka's very soul. "Is that clear?"

"I...I—!"

"Is that clear?" the woman repeated quite calmly, even as Tohsaka's legs began to buckle under her, as the magus felt certain she would be executed on the spot.

"Y-y-y-yes, ma'am," Tohsaka whispered, barely able to say the words as tears streamed down her cheeks. It was over - it was all over. Any moment now...any moment now-

But the end never came, merely a breeze as the familiars vanished from sight once more, leaving Rin pathetically grateful to have been spared. Merely being able to breathe had never seemed so precious, so wonderful...so much of a gift.

"Good. Commander. My office. Now."

Matou Shinji glanced at Rin, disappointment and pity written across his face, before looking back at the First Citizen's secretary.

"Right away, ma'am!" he said, following as she turned and headed off, leaving Tohsaka Rin entirely alone.

Alone save for the security goblins around the room, who were shaking their heads at the shameful sight of the girl. It just went to show that humans – especially young, untrained humans – had little place in an army. Oh, there were exceptions, to be sure, but they were exceptions, not the rule – a view this display had only reinforced.

* * *

Before the unpleasant encounter in the atrium, Shinji had actually been enjoying the outing, yet afterwards, the mood had soured, with the boy calling an end to their "date" after that. And perhaps, if they had been going to different places for the night, that would have been that, but as it was, she still lived in his house, so he had to bear with her company for a bit longer.

He'd tried his best to make for a good day, yet despite his warning from last night, she'd still dishonored him, still shamed him in public.

"Frankly," he grumbled as he stepped through the door of his house. "I don't know if I'll be able to take you anywhere in public again. Not without disguising you as someone else, someone not already associated with me in either of my identities."

"That's fine," Rin said meekly, much to Shinji's surprise. "I...it's my fault. All my fault. I...I didn't think. I just...I'm useless."

"Tohsaka, you're not..." He shook his head. "Well, you _did_ cause a good deal of trouble, it's true."

"Yes, I've been a bad girl," she whispered. "You should punish me for what I did. Make me look like someone else if you wish. That's fine," the girl acquiesced, looking down. "Whatever you want. Whatever you want to do. Whatever you want me to be."

"Tohsaka..."

"Just...give me a name?"

"A name, you say?" the boy who called himself Matou Shinji murmured, as he came to a halt. It was all too easy to dismiss something like a name as unimportant, as meaning little, but in reality, what one called something - or someone - affected what one thought of that thing, or person. More to the point, if he didn't assign Rin a name to use when she was disguised, then he might very well slip and call her Tohsaka, leading to her calling him Matou, which could be bad if they didn't want their identities exposed.

...which they didn't around Hermione Granger, given their history with her.

"Yes..." Tohsaka whispered, walking over to him and taking his hand, with the boy - or at least part of him - stiffening at her touch. "A name...something for you to call me...something secret. Just between us."

She looked down, almost shyly, though Shinji could feel her blush, as she seemed...hot, and she seemed to be panting, or at least, breathing hard.

"...you do know that I'll have to tell Emilia your name too, right?" the boy inquired gently, with Rin seeming to flinch at this as she looked up, startled, almost shaking.

"You didn't give her a name already, did you?" the girl asked, pouting.

"Of course not," Shinji replied, his hand squeezing hers reassuringly, as he turned to face her completely. "The only one I'll name is you."

"I'm...special then?" she questioned, her sea-colored eyes looking almost vulnerable as she peered at him through long lashes.

"You've always been special to me, Tohsaka," the boy answered smoothly, with the girl's face and hands going red. For a moment, he wondered if the blush extended to the rest of her body, and what else he could do to make her go red like that, but with some effort, he cleared his mind, reminding himself that he needed to focus.

"I-"

"You asked for a name," Shinji murmured, giving the matter some thought to distract himself from the memory of what an older Tohsaka had looked - had felt like - in his arms. "Names have power, you know. More than you know. Are you sure you want me to...?"

"Please...give it to me?" she asked as she took a step closer.

"Alright," the boy whispered, closing his eyes. "I'll give you a name..." He shook his head then, recalling. "Wait, didn't I already give you one, _Lumi_?"

The girl winced, and yet the boy couldn't help but smile as he saw this.

"That's right – I called you Lumi. Lumi _Edelfelt,"_ he stated, as Tohsaka cringed. Yes – he supposed that would work, all the more so if she didn't like it. It would even play into the disguise he gave her, which now that he thought about it, might _not _be the outfit he'd given her for Christmas.

Briefly, he considered something minimal, like putting her in a kimono and having her wear her hair up, or putting her in robes and styling her hair differently, but those he dismissed as well, as that would be no good around Granger – the actress would see through such a disguise easily.

'I have to change at least one big feature of hers, since how many Japanese people do you see with black hair and sea-colored eyes...?'

He could offer her contacts, but that left the issue of her hair, which was by far more recognizable.

_'Which just means I have to dye it, perhaps change the hairstyle…'_

Could it work, he wondered?

_'Hm...if I dressed her in whites and blues and dyed her hair blonde, that might work. She would have to wear something more formal than she does now, something that makes her look...noble, but I could see her acting the part._' She'd been something distant, unapproachable, once - if she could act that way again, she could seem like a very different person. _'If she styled her hair in curls, wore white gloves and carried the ivory wand, yes, she'd be quite unrecognizable as Tohsaka Rin.'_

She'd be the very picture of an Edelfelt, in fact, a person as bright and untouchable as the snow...

"What does Lumi even mean?" Rin asked, crinkling her nose.

"It means snow," the boy related, "in Finnish."

"Finnish," Rin repeated, her expression stiffening a bit. "Why a Finnish name?"

"Because with your beautiful eyes, I see you looking the part if you were dress up a bit and perhaps dye your hair."

"Dye...?"

"Yes. A lovely golden blonde, I was thinking," the boy replied, thinking of Elesa's appearance. "While you look lovely as you are, I'd rather that when you are disguised, no one can recognize you but me."

"Ah..."

"That and practically speaking, your features, framed well, could pass as someone from Scandanavia or Finland," Shinji explained. "The north is home to some of the most fearsome fighters I know. And well, such features aren't uncommon in England."

"...you think the Edelfelts are fearsome?! " Rin muttered, her face paling though her expression was...odd.

"Well, you certainly did earlier," Shinji noted, recalling how petrified the girl had been around the sapphire birds.

"You…you want me...to look like one of them?"

"Are you saying no?" he asked. "You did say, _whatever I wanted_, right?"

The girl flinched.

"I...no, I...that's not what I meant," the girl said weakly. "I...if you really want me to...I...I can disguise myself as...one of them. If that is what you want."

"It would make things easier, _Lumi_," Shinji murmured, with the girl trembling as he said these words. "Unless...you don't want to make things easy..."

Rin swallowed.

"No. No...I'm easy," she responded almost desperately. "I...I'll be whoever - whatever - you want me to be."

"Great," Shinji said, with some relief. "I'll make sure to get you some clothes from LeShin before we head off. Is there anything else...?"

"J-just one thing," the Japanese girl whispered, looking almost frightened, yet seeming like she'd made up her mind.

"Yes?"

"C-close your eyes?" she asked.

Shinji raised an eyebrow at the strange request, but complied, as he was sure that Tohsaka wouldn't hurt him, or try anything too strange in his house.

"And th—"

But the boy's words were cut off as the girl stepped close to him and reached out with her free hand, pulling his head to hers in a desperate kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth as she pressed herself against him. The sensation was...familiar yet strange, with her smell, the touch of her, the taste of her, surging to the forefront of his mind as she moaned, and unbidden, he found himself kissing back, as if it was second nature.

The hand holding her hand was guided, pulled down and around before she released it, with the boy finding that his hand was resting on her pleasantly shaped derriere. Almost instinctively, he cupped and squeezed, fingers sliding from buttock to inner thigh in a way that was almost possessive, and Tohsaka Rin moaned as his hands brushed somewhere sensitive, somewhere moist, somewhere hot.

Her thighs tightened on his hand as she ground against it, against him, her kisses growing more heated, more frantic, more hungry as her body writhed and squirmed in a needy, desperate manner.

"Ah...ah..."

"To, Tohsaka, wh..."

And then the girl's entire body went stiff as she cried out, her thighs clamping down hard as her hips twitched and jerked and bucked, the moist patch he was rubbing against thoroughly soaked now, filling the air with a heady musk that threatened to blow away what remained of his sanity, and certainly helped make him quite stiff.

"Ma...tou..." Tohsaka whispered, her lips just barely parted from his, her voice and face dazed when she could speak once more. "Matou...take...me..." She leaned in again, kissing him. "Let's...go...together. Make. A secret memory. Just two of us."

"Just...ahhhh," the boy moaned as she kissed him, finding the heat of her nigh irresistible.

"But...I...what about..." There was a word that was supposed to be there, something important, something vitally so, but for the life of him, he couldn't quite remember what it was supposed to be.

"It doesn't matter," she said as she kissed him desperately, pulling him closer as the entire world seemed to fall away except for the heat in his loins, the heat in his chest, the heat in his mind. He...he wanted her. Wanted to make her his. To claim her maidenhood and make her moan and scream and call his name as he drove into her, ravished her.

"Senpai."

"Take me..." Rin whispered, no moaned. "My first time...my everything..."

Shinji growled as her words sank in, pleasing to his ear. To have the girl he once admired throwing herself at him like this, yes, how could he refuse, how could he-

"Senpai."

He opened his eyes then, noting that down the hallway, there was a head of strawberry blonde hair, which he didn't recognize for a moment as Tohsaka kissed him...and then he did recognize who it was, and the heat in him died as he pulled - jerked - back, his eyes wide.

"I..."

"Ma...matou?" Rin questioned, looking at him with passion in her eyes. "Will you-"

The way she looked at him as she stepped closer was almost irresistible as she took his hand again, placing it on her chest.

"Will you—"

But Shinji yanked back his arm, his eyes wide, as he saw the head of hair disappear around the corner.

"Mashu!" he whispered, with Rin looking up, confused at why he would say another woman's name at a time like this. "Mashu, wait!" he said, brushing past Tohsaka to go after the Alchemist, leaving the Japanese girl crying out after him, alone.

* * *

Sadly, he didn't find her downstairs. He didn't find her in his rooms, or thankfully, at the desk, having sent something to Sion. In fact, she didn't appear before him until later that night, during their scheduled session, when Mashu inquired as to his intentions regarding Miss Tohsaka, as...his behavior that she had seen was quite problematic.

"If you had not seen me, what would have happened?" she asked, her violet gaze piercing and not entirely kind. "Would you have forgotten those you made commitments to because of a momentary bit of pleasure, senpai?"

"I...no! That wouldn't happen! I...my promises mean everything to me!"

"Even the promises that Matou Shinji made in another life?"

Her words were like shards of ice, ripping into his chest, as the boy slumped.

He hadn't...quite...decided what his past life was to him, but...

"I won't break those promises, not when without the ones I pledged to, I..." the boy shook his head. "...I would be nothing. Without Sokaris. Without those words" he said in almost a whisper.

"Yes, you would," Mashu agreed. "Even if you are now called the modern Lancelot. Even if you are called the Hero of the Ministry. Even if you have won honors, it is worth nothing if you cannot keep your word."

There was a long, unbearable moment of silence.

"...you're right," the boy whispered, hanging his head.

"Then...what happened with Miss Tohsaka that you nearly forgot?"

Shinji hung his head.

"I...one thing led to another...I didn't mean for things to go that far," he said morosely. "All I wanted...I just want to be her friend, her patron. To be to her like Sokaris is to me." Which sounded well and good except-

"You wish for her to completely devote her life to you? To be willing to lay down everything for you?"

"I-no! No, why would you say that?!" he protested.

"Because that is what the Director is to you - someone you worship. Someone you would do anything for, even if it meant becoming the enemy of the world."

The silence this time was profound and lasted for far longer than a mere moment.

"...I did say that, didn't I?" he eventually admitted, recalling when he had made such a vow.

"You did. Thus...do you wish for Tohsaka to be your ally, even if it meant that she would become an enemy of the world?"

"No!" The boy almost recoiled at the thought. "I...I wouldn't do that to her!"

"But you would lead her down a web of desire, taking advantage of her - and turning others into her enemies."

"I-"

"What if I had not been there? How far would things have gone?"

"I...I would have stopped. I...would have-"

"Would you?"

"I...I think so?"

"...your actions did not seem like that of someone about to stop."

"Then what do you think I would have done?" he demanded, his hands balling into fists.

"Had I not called out, I have no doubt you would have engaged in sexual relations with Miss Tohsaka, and that you would even now be entwined with her," was the blunt response, one that almost made the boy double over.

"I..."

"Imagine that it was not I who had walked in, but another."

"Like who?"

"Like Miss Lovegood. What would she have thought?"

The air seemed to freeze as Shinji remembered that yes, his predecessor had been in a relationship with Luna - something that was hard to recall sometimes when the Trial of Courage had given him nearly as much time together with Tohsaka, with the memories mixing up into one another.

"Oh..."

"That's right, senpai, oh."

Shinji swallowed.

"Uh...I uh..."

"It is a poor commander who becomes so...intimately involved in the lives of his squad," Mashu mentioned, with Shinji closing his eyes. "But I suppose that is why you are in Albion this year, to learn - to grow."

"I..."

"This will not happen again."

"It won't. I promise."


	10. High Command

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 10. **_High Command_

As the being who called itself Matou Shinji looked out upon the streets of London in the strange half-light before dawn, he found himself thinking back to what he could remember of his past life. Of the life he'd lived prior to dying on the Isle of Thule while fighting – and killing – the avatar of an Outer God, prior to being reborn as…the mishmash of things that he was now.

It wasn't the easiest thing in the world, given how fuzzy those memories were, something that, as he understood it, was related to the erosion of his human soul by the Outer God's filth and the traumatic process of death and reconstruction. Still, a few moments shone through the mist and the mire, mostly those which had made him who he was.

Moments such as getting his Hogwarts letter, seeing _Mahoutokoro_ for the first time, meeting Sokaris. Moments like the Acromantula fight, the labyrinth of Thule, and the final clash with the abomination to reality Stukov had become. Moments like his vow to Sokaris, and how even if the world became her enemy, he would be her ally – and of course, the lengths to which he had gone to keep that vow, frantically shifting his focus and defeating his best friend so he could qualify for the Potions Championship, defying – and being cast out of – his family (a family that he'd longed for a place in since he could remember), dealing with the false visions of the Trial of Courage…

…and dying.

Everything important – everything _good_ – in his life had come about because of his interactions with Sokaris, with the boy having trouble no trouble imagining what things would have been like if he hadn't gone to Hogwarts, hadn't met her. No doubt he would have become twisted by bitterness and resentment, until one day he broke entirely, becoming a monster that merely wore a human's flesh.

'_Like grandfather,' _he thought, with only a touch of irony. _'Only I wouldn't have had the power he does or the command over thaumaturgy. I'd be a monster limited to very _human _cruelties, who couldn't see past his need to be recognized.'_

He imagined he might have ended up tormenting…the girl who had taken his place, taking solace in various ways of making her suffer as she had made him suffer, because there was no way he would have been able to stand up to Matou Zouken.

'_Pathetic. Such a self, such a _thing_…a fate worse than death. Clinging to existence as a powerless corpse just pretending to be alive, unable to change it's fate…' _

Whatever else he was now, Matou Shinji could at least rest easy in the fact that he was not _weak_, that even with all the _complications_ of his rebirth – or creation, if one was to accept the premise that he was but a golem with draconic flavoring, he had the power to choose what he would become, _who he_ would become – what he would do.

'_Yet is that even really a choice?_ _All that Matou Shinji became in his life was because of Sokaris, because of his drive to be worthy of standing by her side, because of the promise he made her.' _He could choose to strike out on his own, he supposed, but the thought of living with Sokaris was anathema, for without her, without the _direction_ that she gave him, all his strength would avail him not. _'True, I have power, but what is power without wisdom, without purpose?'_

There was an easy answer to that, whose name was Matou Zouken, a once great archmagus who, before the Einzbern slew him, had degenerated into nothing but a monster, a wretch who for all his power, had no _direction_, no greater purpose for existence except existing.

He had power now, in this form of his, commanding the strength of fire and earth as easily as he drew breath, like the great dragons of old, but as his grandfather had proved, power alone was meaningless if he had nothing to live for beyond the momentary desires of the flesh. Or, if he was to use an example that wasn't dead, there was Tohsaka, he supposed, an _Average One_ who allowed her base desires to mar her true potential…and had almost pulled him down into degeneracy with her.

'_If it were not for Mashu, I probably would have succumbed to the temptation Tohsaka presented, taking advantage of her offer to let me do whatever I wanted to her, given that _owning_ her, _taking_ her, would certainly be a way to show how far I'd come from what I was.' _And yet in doing so, in reveling in his strength, by drowning the illicit, meaningless pleasure Tohsaka offered, he would have proven that he lacked any restraint whatsoever, making him forever unworthy of standing by her side. _'My former self almost failed the Trial of Courage because of Tohsaka, and here I was, following in his footsteps, about to plummet from the precipice if Mashu had not caught me.'_

He had to be better. _Had_ to be, for his sake, for Sokaris' sake. For the sake of his oaths and obligations, because otherwise, what had he cast everything aside for?

The boy sighed as he looked down at his left hand, which held in its grip a vial full of a pale blue liquid, a potion which would help suppress his base desires, allowing him to think more rationally even when confronted with temptation. It was…unfortunate that he needed to resort to such a thing to keep his mind clear and focused, but reality was what it was. This wasn't some badly-written story where he would magically change from one day to the next, without any sort of effort, simply because he wanted to.

Change was slow. It was hard. It was painful – or could be, and yet it was worth it, or would be in the end.

'_Just like what's happening with Britain.'_

* * *

With the headache of the previous day so recently behind him, Matou Shinji thought that it would be best if he took a day for himself, a day without Tohsaka or Emilia or any other subordinates to deal with, without carrying all the burdens that he was normally asked to bear.

'_I guess it wouldn't hurt to take closer look at how things are in Magical London without having…distractions about.'_

Distractions like Emilia's bountiful chest or Tohsaka's shapely legs, which he did admittedly notice, though he tried to be discreet about it. There was no harm in merely _looking_, after all, or he'd told himself.

The traditional garb of practitioners of witchcraft, thankfully, was far less revealing, less…_stimulating _in that way (though the garish colors and fashions they used were stimulating in many less pleasant ways), and so he imagined being among them, after yesterday would be a nice rest for his mind.

This time, as he headed in, he didn't employ the services of Jeeves, as he didn't feel like drawing attention to himself. Well, beyond whatever attention his disguise already drew from onlookers, though at least that wasn't because they recognized him – not for the most part. Not that he overheard anyone commenting on the oddness of his clothing, given that there were more interesting sights to be seen, with foreigners in quite a few different outfits among them.

Some wore clothes similar to his, almost as if it was a uniform of sorts, and they nodded to him, as if recognizing one of their own. Some wore hooded robes whose cut and stylings of the Stone Cutters' garb, and that like the shopkeeper from the day before, had featured red sashes and utility belts. Some wore…very minimal outfits, with barely enough fabric to maintain modesty, things that would be more appropriate on a beach than the capital.

And that was without even looking at the natives, as there were goblins in highly polished armor patrolling the streets next to those equipped with things that looked almost like spider legs, some leprechauns in green formalwear, and some…rather attractive witches wearing rather revealing garb as they stood at the intersection of the alleys, mentioning something about a good time.

_'Busier than I expected, really. I wonder if something is about to happen...'_ he thought to himself.

The scars of the Battle of London were still very evident, with many of Diagon Alley's more famous shops having been reduced to rubble or charred husks, with goblin work crews hard at work clearing the sites, as most of the damage had come from Fiendfyre or other dark magics, and so could not be magically repaired.

Even for those where repair might have been possible, the owners and proprietors were generally dead, having been slain in the first few minutes of that terrible struggle, during which the Ministry had done nothing, allowing the people of London to be slaughtered before Lockhart and the goblins had intervened. And with no one clamoring for the shops to be rebuilt, it was far easier to clear everything away and build something new, something lasting, while the opportunity existed. Something that would endure whatever came its way…

'_A visual metaphor for what Lockhart is doing with Britain as a whole, building something new, something lasting, with goblins and humans working together…'_

In the meantime, instead of well-known shops, there were a great many carts run by those with entrepreneurial leanings, filling the demand for food, entertainment, and even reasonably priced premade wares (as opposed to Vertic, which was slightly more upscale and took commissions). Treats like ice cream, butterbeer, and soft pretzels could be found, as well as more exotic things like shaved ice, Italian soda, and…was that stand selling _curry_ and _vegetable tempura_, and the one next to it…_ramen?!_

'_Quite a line for those, too…'_

In terms of more filling foods, one of the carts was selling what seemed like _karaage, _along with potato wedges fried a perfect golden brown. Another sold crepes, with an assortment of fillings and toppings, and seemed very popular with the younger crowd. One of the carts was even selling something it called Falafel sandwiches, whatever those were, with quite a crowd made up mostly of the people in the hooded robes.

Seeing these sights, hearing the buzz of the crowd, smelling the wonderful scents of baked and fried foods, mingled with the aroma of soup that had been simmered for days on end, made him rather nostalgic, with the boy finding his feet taking him towards the ramen stall, which seemed to be run by a metamorphmagus, or at least someone with green hair.

…though being a metamorphmagus alone wouldn't have explained how she greeted him in perfect Japanese.

"…you're not Emilia, are you?" Shinji asked carefully, glancing up at the menu.

"I am nyat!" the other replied. "Miss Akashi, at your service."

"Ah. Nines," he answered, thinking it only polite to respond with his alias.

"I have hosted Miss Emilia for lunch," the proprietor continued. "She comes by often, always having the Kamibuta special."

"Kami…buta?" Shinji parsed. "As in sea pig? Or…"

"That's right, nya!" the green-haired, golden-eyed attendant said cheerfully. "Best pork ramen in Yokosuka!"

"…Yokosuka as in the naval base?"

"That's right!" the waitress said, nodding happily.

"I see. Well, if Emilia is fond of it, it must be good," the boy reasoned. While the _tanuki _had many faults, having bad taste in food wasn't one of them. "One Kamibuta special, if you don't mind," Shinji requested, eager for a large helping of something familiar.

"Coming right up, nya!" With a perhaps unnecessary flourish or two, Miss Akashi proceeded to prepare his order, quickly putting together a serious bowl of thick, floury noodles and rich, garlic and sesame laden broth, topped thick slices of tender pork loin that looked like they'd just melt in his mouth, a poached egg, and a veritable mountain of stir-fried cabbage and bean sprouts. "Enjoy, nya!" she said, only a minute or so later.

And enjoy he did, as the results of Hogwarts cooking – or his own – was very much inferior to what he could credibly say was probably the best ramen in Yokosuka. Maybe even the best in London.

He said as much to the shopkeeper, once he'd finished slurping down the noodles with relish, with the young woman nodding.

"Always happy to hear that from a customer!" she said, bowing as the boy left a rather generous tip, more than the usual for London. "Come by again!"

With his belly full and his body feeling nice and warm from the meal, he certainly intended to do so.

Having satisfied his immediate needs, Shinji proceeded to stroll around a bit, soaking in the atmosphere of Magical London, paying special attention to how the foreigners and natives were interacting, as well as how the practitioners of witchcraft were treating the non-human creatures in their presence. Interestingly, everyone seemed friendly enough, with people and creatures giving each other small, but respectful nods. _'In the old Britain, people would have been suspicious of a stranger. Right now, though...? They don't seem to mind foreigners much.'_

He supposed it was logical that Lockhart might have hired mercenaries to boost Albion's ranks, or to invite displaced wizards to Britain to replace the portion of the population that had died off in the various catastrophes Britain had suffered lately, but it was odd that they were being treated to well.

Or maybe it wasn't that odd – perhaps people were just placing their faith in Lockhart, since _he_ had saved them, not only standing against a seemingly implacable enemy_, _but _winning_. In the people's eyes, he was a hero, one who could do no wrong…

'_That's…almost frightening how much they trust him. But if that is what is going on, I guess the covers I came up with for Tohsaka and myself won't seem so unusual_,' he mused, as his footsteps took him to the government building, to find that it too was bustling today, with several well-armored goblins guarding both the doors, and the checkpoint that led further into the building.

To his mind, they looked nothing so much as Knights – if knights carried wands, anyway.

"Wand, please," one said to him as he came to the checkpoint, with Shinji handing over his _kodama_ wood and chimera scale wand. The wand was placed on a specialized scale, with the goblins stiffening slightly as the results were returned.

"Ah. You. You wear a different form," the head goblin on duty observed quietly.

"I do, but shouldn't you already know that?" the boy asked, raising an eyebrow. "I was just here yesterday."

"Ah, apologies. We were not on duty then," the goblin replied.

"No matter," Shinji noted, nodding. "I'm sure I'll be here often enough for you all to recognize who I am, no matter what form I wear."

"Mm," the head goblin murmured. "Your business?"

Huh…right. What was he…

"The Wizard-Marshal," Shinji stated. "I wanted to speak with him regarding my orders."

There was a moment of silence as the goblin cocked his head, seeming almost like he was listening to something, before he was waved on through the machine.

"You will find his office in the atrium," the security officer said deferentially. "He is expecting you. You know the way?"

"Ah...yes," Shinji answered. "Second stairs to my right, and then straight on after?"

"That's right," came the reply, as the boy collected his items and proceeded to follow the goblin's instructions, eventually emerging into the rather spacious atrium of a sort he'd visited yesterday. What he hadn't quite noticed then, given that he'd been distracted by his business with Miss Suoirsulli, was that there was a ring of offices around it, each guarded by a number of goblins.

_'I wonder if the offices match their seats on the Round Table,'_ he thought, trying to remember if the Wizard-Marshal had an assigned seat at the table, and if so, which one. It wasn't as if knew how to orient himself in this place…

Even in his distraction, however, he managed to keep from running into the First Citizen's Secretary, with the stunning young woman once more being clad in an ensemble of white and gold and blue, with blue flowers woven into her white-blonde hair.

"Miss Suoirsulli," he greeted with a bow.

"Hullo," she replied with an elegant curtsey. "You seem to be having some trouble."

"Well, yes."

"You are here to see the Wizard Marshal, yes?"

"...how did you know, Miss...?" Shinji asked, rather taken aback. Of all the offices here, how would she know which one he was to be visiting? He hadn't seen any of her familiars, unless…she could make them invisible? _'Huh. I didn't think of that.'_

"If you must know, I heard it from the goblin at the checkpoint," Miss Suoirsulli answered, her voice rather delicate, though Shinji was not fooled.

"Ah," Shinji uttered. That made sense - he supposed they would have some system of communication. Though... "But why is the First Citizen's secretary coming to meet me, and not the Wizard-Marshal's?"

"Because the poor man doesn't have a secretary yet," the young woman said with a dainty laugh, which Shinji found quite alluring indeed. "Come, this way."

She guided him to the office he was looking for, nodding to the goblins, who stepped aside. Before she could knock, the door swung open, with none other than Tomas Peverell emerging from it, dressed in rather severe black robes.

"Good. You're here," the man said. "Thank you for fetching him, Miss Suoirtsulli."

"It was no trouble," she replied, before nodding and heading off.

Tomas watched her go for a moment, before stepping back into the room, gesturing for Shinji to follow. He did, following the man into a rather spacious office with a rather good amount of a natural light, with a view of the outside that came through a rather clever system of mirrors. The space was well appointed, too, with comfortable, if utilitarian-seeming furniture, and maps on the wall that gave it a very businesslike feel.

More importantly though, he wasn't alone, as there was an armored goblin already present and seated, looking at him curiously as Tomas closed the door.

"Before we begin, let's have a round of introductions, shall we?" the automaton asked. "You know me, of course, but I don't think you've met Mudbutton here." The goblin shook his head. "Right, since we're all friends here, would you mind dropping your disguise for a moment?"

Shinji grumbled, but did so, as it was not wise to disobey a superior officer unless one had a very good reason for doing so.

"Mudbutton, this is Matou Shinji, of the Albion Home Guard," Tomas said by way of introduction. "Matou, Mudbutton, former King of the Goblins, and a Spectre - a Field Commander - in Albion's Liberation Force."

"Ah...the Hero of the Ministry," Mudbutton noted, nodding slightly. "I have heard of you."

"Only good things, I'm sure," Shinji answered, to which the goblin frowned.

"For the purpose of the upcoming operation at WADA, Mister Matou here will be operating under an alias. Nines, I believe it was?"

"...that's right," Shinji agreed. So far, things didn't seem to be going poorly.

"Now that we know each other, please, have a seat," Tomas requested, with the boy settling down into one of the other chairs about. "Excellent. Your timing is fortuitous, Mister Matou, as we were just talking about you."

"O-oh really?" the boy asked, trying and failing to keep curiosity and nervousness from his voice.

"Yes," the automaton confirmed. "For the upcoming mission, you and your squad will be attached to Mudbutton's forces at WADA. However, while the larger force focuses on protecting the school as a whole, you have a separate objective involving the protection and extraction of Miss Granger, a valuable propaganda asset for us. While Mudbutton has done an admirable job dealing with the remnants of the shattered army, and any ferals that have emerged sense, our concern is that the Ministry, seeing the progress we have been making and the favor we have been gaining, may send forces to the south to embarrass us."

"They will not capture WADA on my watch," the goblin said grimly. "And you have already briefed me on this possibility."

"Indeed, but I have not briefed 'Nines'," Tomas answered. "In any case, the First Citizen and I are not as concerned with the Ministry making a push for territory, or an outright assault as much as...a quiet extraction op of their own."

"...you think they want Hermione?" Shinji asked. "But why?"

"In case you are unaware, Miss Granger is one of the rising stars of this generation, and almost a household name as far as actresses go."

"What." The boy's voice was flat. "You…you're joking."

"I rarely joke about such things, Mister Matou. She may be a minor star compared to others you know, but in Magical Britain, she is a celebrity, known for her depiction of Sokaris in the Cornerstone production, among other tragic heroines."

"Huh. I…see."

"Then you also see how having her work for us would be quite a boon, much as her falling into the hands of the Ministry would be unhelpful, yes?"

"I suppose, but, is she really that important in the grand scheme of things?"

Mudbutton smiled, his expression full of teeth.

"So I am told. Perhaps she will even help wizards will be comfortable around Goblins, given that until the Intervention, we were seen as treacherous and dangerous," he said, none too pleasantly. "Or vice-versa, as we have mostly known wizards to be untrustworthy beings, who in turns fear us and covet the things we make. Oathbreakers and the like."

"…yet you call Lockhart Oath_keeper_?"

"You know of that, do you?" Mudbutton asked appraisingly, raising an eyebrow. "Well, the First Citizen is…different. He has proven his intent in what he has done, rather than being a being of words alone, unlike most…_wizards_. Still, what he proposes, what he seeks to accomplish, it won't be easy…"

Shinji had the distinct impression that the former Goblin King had been about to say something else, something rather less polite, but didn't point it out, demonstrating that he did have something of a self-preservation instinct.

"It will take work, certainly," Tomas acknowledged, "But if you didn't believe it was possible, you wouldn't have abdicated, would you?"

"...fair point."

"In any case, 'Nines', your plan?"

Put on the spot as he was, Shinji went through what he has in mind for the operation involving Miss Granger. For the duration of the mission, he and Rin would pose as mercenaries hired to protect a number of orphans who would be hosted at WADA, with Emilia presumably already hidden among the orphans. Hermione, as a muggleborn, would be assigned to help watch the children (many of them being muggleborns) while their fate is being determined, with Shinji and Rin using the children as an excuse to be near Miss Granger, so to provide a ready source of protection at all times.

"A decent plan, though I have one question."

"Yes?"

"You mentioned you wanted to be ready to protect her at all times. How do you plan on arranging your shifts to accommodate that, seeing that in this plan, Emilia is operating on her own, leaving you with only yourself and Miss Tohsaka? Two people is not usually sufficient to cover a 24-hour period…unless you expect Spectre Mudbotton to provide you with assistance?"

Shinji smiled wanly.

"I do have a number of advantages over a normal human," the boy remarked. "Among them items I retrieved from the isle." He sighed. "Still, you might have a point. I don't suppose you could let me look at the dossier you have on Miss Granger? Just so I can see if what I have planned is viable?"

"Not an unexpected request," Tomas noted, sliding a folder over to the boy. "Here you go – a dossier containing her general schedule, photos, preferences, and more."

"I do know what she looks like."

"You'd be surprised what a little makeup and a change in hairstyle can do to one's assumptions, wouldn't you, Nines?"

"...point taken."

* * *

**Hermione Granger**

Human Witch, Age 15

Gilderoy Lockhart Scholar, Wizarding Academy of the Dramatic Arts

**Summary**: With the exception of individuals such as the Boy-Who-Lived or the First Citizen of Albion, Miss Granger is one of the most well-known figures in all of Magical Britain, having been catapulted to fame for her role as Sialim Sokaris in the critically acclaimed Cornerstones. Since leaving Hogwarts and enrolling in the Wizarding Academy of the Dramatic Arts as the first Muggleborn Gilderoy Lockhart Scholar (and indeed, the first Muggleborn to attend WADA in the history of the institution), she has taken the theatrical world of Magical Britain by storm, with her talent and passion for sharing the stories she loves with the magical world bringing her a remarkable degree of success.

In a more peaceful time, it is possible that Miss Granger's career might have stalled, going the way of most WADA students in a society that isn't truly large enough for an organic performing arts scene (with its graduates often finding themselves unemployed, as they lack both the connections of those who attended Hogwarts, or a credential from an ICW-certified school that allows them to work abroad). In the wake of the Quidditch World Cup, however, things changed significantly, with WADA receiving official patronage from the Ministry for the first time in its existence, with the Ministry not only commissioning plays, but paying for renovation and expansion of the campus, giving WADA airtime on the few remaining radio stations, and more. In short, WADA was made a critical part of the Office of Information's propaganda machine.

In this new environment, where theatre was state-sponsored , Miss Granger came into her own, with her connections to Hogwarts and the various people portrayed in Cornerstones helping her to secure the role that would propel her to national fame. Today, it would not be an exaggeration to call her a household name, having a level of influence usually only wielded by well-known Muggle celebrities. Her endorsement of Albion and its message would mean much for our cause, and given her relationship with the First Citizen, that she will do so is not unlikely. However, the Ministry is no doubt aware of this, and has likely made the retrieval (or elimination) of Miss Granger and any other WADA students they can manage, as losing them - or having them endorse our enemies - would be a significant blow to the cause of Albion.

Other Threats: Aside from any personal threat to Miss Granger's safety, one should not disregard the possibility of a Ministry-sanctioned strike against WADA and its facilities, particularly by deniable forces (See: Death Eaters; Status of Azkaban should be ascertained ASAP), as Albion failing to protect an asset in London (if not in Wizarding London) after condemning the Ministry for being unable to do the same could be catastrophic. Force under Spectre Mudbutton has been deployed to protect WADA, students and facilities, pending relief by Homeguard units.

**Current abilities**:

Wand Skills: Though Miss Granger left Hogwarts, she has continued to keep up with certain parts of her magical education thanks to tutors that were made available to some of the more promising students. She has achieved an OWLs in History of Magic and Charms.

**Acting**: Miss Granger is one of the few WADA students who has been trained for the stage as well as for radio, thanks to the Ministry's intensive development of the arts in Britain.

**Playwriting**: Currently she is working on this, with a focus on converting Muggle stories for Magical consumption.

**Connections**:

_Current Role Models_: Gilderoy Lockhart

_Current Affiliations_: Order of Merlin (3rd Class), Gilderoy Lockhart Scholar

_Possessions_: Wand (Vine + dragon heartstring), Clothing (assorted), Books (Various - Shakespeare, Epic of Makar Zolgen, etc), Gringotts account ($$$)

**Schedule** (based on observations, subject to change - especially once assigned as guide to orphans):

5 am - Wake Up

5 am - 6 am - Morning Walk

6 am - 8 am - Breakfast and Free Time

8 am - 11 am - Classes (Movement, Voice, Acting)

11 am - 12 pm - Lunch (sometimes meetings)

12 pm - 5 pm - Free time / Production meetings

5 pm - 6 pm - Dinner

6 pm - 10 pm - Rehearsals / Private tutoring / Playwriting

10 pm - 11 pm - Free Time

11 pm - 5 am - Sleep

Schedule is subject to change once children arrive at WADA.

* * *

After perusing the dossier, Shinji paused, taking a moment to lay out his thoughts as to the shift schedules for himself and Tohsaka, and when protection would be most necessary for Miss Granger. He didn't think she'd be particularly vulnerable during Rehearsals or Classes, as others would be there, and while she slept, it would be a simple enough matter to post a guard, but her morning walk concerned him.

He'd have to be careful about that, though...

"I think that given her schedule, we should be able to protect her effectively, even if we only have two people," he noted. "But what do you think?" he asked, turning to the two superior officers in the room, one of whom had once been the Goblin King (though how that worked Shinji had no idea). "Does it sound...workable?"

"I see no _fundamental_ objections," Mudbutton noted, though there was a moment of hesitation that made Shinji uncomfortable. "So long as you believe you and Miss Tohsaka have the skill and experience to handle this assignment. You come...highly recommended for your work providing...close personal protection to the Delacour girl." The elegantly dressed goblin peered at him closely. "Is your...partner as...ah, experienced?"

"Ah...no," the boy admitted uneasily, as the eyes of the former Goblin King bore into him. "It's...ah, her first time."

"I...see."

"...look, we all start somewhere," he said defensively, feeling almost like his position was in jeopardy. "And Emilia, at least is very experienced." He paused. "At her role, I mean."

"That is good and well, Matou," Tomas interjected. "But Emilia's experience is not what is in question. At the end of the day, our concern is that as talented as Miss Tohsaka may be, a lack of experience tends to lead to...mistakes. And a mistake, should the worst come to pass, could well cost Miss Granger her life. Do you understand this?"

"I...yes," the boy replied firmly. "I do."

"Hm. You are...confident, at least, though time will tell if it is justified," Mudbutton noted. "Will you be requiring any support from my forces for your mission?"

"Not directly. Probably. Not in terms of personnel, at least," Shinji answered, finding himself on more solid footing. "Though I would ask…would it be possible for you to give Tohsaka a solid grounding on the basics of combat in...this world?"

"What." Mudbutton, for all his experience, could not keep a look of shock from his face. "What do you mean a grounding? You said you were confident in a girl child who has no inkling of what combat means? Do I understand you correctly, Mister Matou?"

"No...she knows how to fight, and can be very dangerous, but...she isn't as familiar with the threats we are to face. She trained elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?"

"In Japan."

Mudbutton grunted.

"I see. So not a complete newbie, just inexperienced at this type of work, in this environment," the former royal asked, seemingly mollified.

"Yes."

"I…_suppose_ we can provide her some training, then," the goblin responded. "We will be running a number of exercises anyway, and it would not be difficult to add someone else to these, especially as we will be using something based on the _Book of Spells_ for that purpose." He sighed. "Is there anything _else_ we can provide to assist with your mission?"

Shinji was silent as he considered this. If not training, then some material aid wouldn't be unwarranted, mostly in the form of ingredients he could use to brew things like healing potions, invisibility potions, and the like. Perhaps even some sort of communication device to allow him to talk with Tohsaka remotely?

He said as much, with Mudbutton nodding, looking marginally less displeased.

"Aye, we can do that," the goblin replied. "Just one question?"

"Yes?"

"How did you survive the battle of the Ministry?"

Shinji laughed quietly, shaking his head.

"How, you ask?" he echoed, a slight smile stealing across his face even as scales took the place of skin, and once grey eyes turned gold. "By becoming _more than merely human."_

"…and how did you manage _that?_"

"By keeping my word," the boy stated simply, almost daring the former goblin king to call him a liar.

"…what did it cost?" Mudbutton asked instead.

"Everything," Shinji said gravely, shaking his head. "Everything I used to be."

"Do you regret the choices you made?"

"No."

"Not at all?" Mudbutton questioned, curious now.

"If I had not chosen what I did, I would have betrayed my oath, and if I cannot keep that, then I am nothing."

"Spoken like a goblin," the Spectre responded, a touch more respect in his voice than before. The goblin nodded to himself, before changing the topic. "Back on the topic of your mission, there is one more thing that needs to be discussed?"

"Yes?"

"Accommodations."

"I didn't think that would be an issue, since there are only two of us…" Shinji said, furrowing his brow.

"It isn't an issue, exactly, but where you will live is something that should be worked out," the Spectre corrected. "Given your independent command, I have provisionally secured a room for you and your squadmate. Formerly that of a professor, it is decently spacious, with an attached bathroom, though of course, as a room meant for one person, there is but one bed."

"Only one bed…?" the boy echoed, feeling somewhat uneasy about the notion. He'd almost done something…very foolish last night, and now this…_this_ was being offered to him.

"Yes, but as you will staggering shifts, it is a moot point," the goblin noted. "I could have housed you in the communal dorm we appropriated as barracks for our platoon, but as I had thought you human, with human needs, I had assumed you would appreciate some…privacy, yes?"

Privacy, huh?

"That's very kind of you, but I will have to decline," Shinji responded. He was quite aware of his own weakness to Tohsaka, and spending time in a room alone with her was not conducive for his sanity – or restraint. "The barracks will do. We are all members of Albion, aren't we? It would not do for me to get special treatment because of my race. Well, former race."

"Good to see you actually believe in Albion's cause," the goblin said, seeming to approve of his decision. "I won't pretend it will be easy, but when have the worthwhile things been easy?"

"A good question," Tomas stated. "Now, Matou, is there anything else you wanted or needed to know? Or will that be all?"

Having been raised as a magus, Matou Shinji knew full well the value of knowledge. And so, when he was presented with the chance to ask what he would of someone as prominent as the former Goblin King, the boy decided to take full advantage of it. The Wizar—Tomas, he could talk to at any time, but how often did he have a chance to simply ask anything of as major a figure as Mudbutton seemed to be?

"There is something, actually," the boy who called himself Matou Shinji stated. "But that depends on whether you have a dedicated potioneer attached to your squad."

"We do not in fact," Mudbutton replied, crossing his arms. "Potioneers are in rare supply, given the predilections of most...wizards."

"Then perhaps something I can do for you, if you are willing to answer a question of mine."

"I am listening," the Spectre noted, though he wasn't committing to anything quite yet.

"How would you like it if, for the duration of the time I am at WADA, I put my abilities as a potioneer at your disposal?"

"Admittedly, it would not be a...terrible thing," the goblin acknowledged. "Ask your questions then."

The boy took a deep breath.

"My question relates to the past," he said, with Mudbutton grunting as he nodded. "Do your people remember an...old conflict between humans who used witchcraft?" he asked, recalling what the trees had mentioned about the British fighting a terrible war with one another, with the end result being the departure of the spirits of nature from the isle.

"How long ago?"

"Hundreds of years?" Shinji hazarded. "Probably before the Statute. Maybe just after the Killing Curse was invented."

The former goblin king scowled.

"Ah, you speak of the old days – those before our defeat at the hands of the Last Alliance," he muttered. "It is not a time we remember well, nor one our written records cover."

"...you have no records that go back that far?" Shinji hazarded, blinking. He found that quite unusual, really, given that they should have...something, if only to preserve their knowledge of crafting.

"We have _some_," the Goblin King noted grudgingly. "A few inscriptions in metal. A few secrets left behind concerning what the Artificers, the greatest of our kind, uncovered, with us seeking to re-create or improve on them, but that is all."

"Artificers?" Shinji questioned. "The First Citizen mentioned them as paragons of your race, who invented things like goblin silver."

"Yes. They are those who forge the path, the great ones of our kind, who create great and terrible thing. Yet they are few and rare, and not always…particularly skilled at leadership," Mudbutton shook his head. "Hence the Kings, who lead, and the Shamans above them, the wise keepers of our ancient lore."

" Shamans...?" The boy narrowed his eyes, as he remembered well how powerful a shaman could be from his interactions with Ramona on the island. Yet, he'd never heard of goblins having Shamans before, or of them existing in Britain at all.

"Those who were most gifted, who spoke to the spirits and kept our lore, passing it from master to apprentice."

"...passing how?"

"The stories say they used spirit and memory, but that was long ago. There are no more shamans among my people."

"Why? What happened?"

"The wretched Elves killed them in the war that led to us becoming...like this, at the behest of the diminished Wizards' Council. We have lost much because of the elves and their arrogance. And because of men and their treachery."

"By becoming like this..." Shinji noted, narrowing his eyes. "Do you mean, looking like you do now?"

"_**No**_," came the instant reply. "We have always looked thus. But after the war, one started by men, and finished by the elves, may they suffer forever in their blighted forms, we were...diminished, our people robbed of their dignity, of our birthright by men who knew not the meanest of the arts of the forge, who understood nothing of the deeper mysteries, who hated and feared us." The former goblin king bared his teeth. "They took our history from us. Our birthright. The magics of earth and wind and fire we had learned. Let us live only because they coveted the beautiful things we could make." But then his expression shifted, with his snarl shifting into a rather nasty smile, full of wickedly sharp teeth. "Even so, at least the trusting, foolish elves suffered more in the end, when those who begged for their protection turned them into slaves."

"By elves...you...you don't mean…the _house elves_?" the boy asked, taken aback. It was true that he'd found armor fit for a house elf before, and that he speculated that humans had subjugated them, but to have it confirmed...

"Yes. The Elves, that most wretched of races," Mudbutton replied. "Who stood with men, and never even realized that they could be – would be – betrayed by flatterers and peddlers of lies."

"You hate them," Shinji realized. "Even with what they've become, you hate them."

"Yes," the Spectre agreed. "But not more than I pity them," he noted, closing his eyes. "In short, I cannot tell you of the time before the War. Our people do not remember it. Ask another question."

Shinji blinked.

"...how about a question of the future?" he asked.

"I am no Seer, but I will answer if I can," Mudbutton answered, face looking as if it had been carved out of stone.

"Well, how do I put this..." the boy temporized, frowning, as he tried to phrase his query in a way that made sense and wasn't offensive, since he was not the best with money matters. "What do you see as the future of Albion in terms of...money and all? And this whole Goblin corporation business..."

Mudbutton grunted.

"Worried about your pay?" he asked pointedly.

"...not just that, but yes," Shinji admitted, thinking that honesty probably went over better with the goblins as opposed to pretty words, especially with how he had described most humans. "I've traveled to different places in the world, as you know, and I can't help but think that...things won't last as they are in Britain. Not with the odd currency, and everything else going on."

"You're not wrong," Mudbutton replied. "Even before things got...worse after the Quidditch Cup Incident, the economy of Magical Britain was in a bad spot. After, when the Ministry nationalized things and made money almost worthless, well..."

"Ah..."

"I am no financier. I am no banker. I was a King, chosen because I was the best crafter of my people – save for the Artificer, of course," the goblin growled. "Even so, I can see how this isolated state of things is...not good, and even when it wasn't, the oddness of Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons did not help commerce."

Shinji himself could see that much – when there were 29 Knuts in one Sickle, and 17 Sickles in a Galleon, the math wasn't at all simple for either business owners or customers.

"So, currency reform, then?" he asked. "A New Galleon or something."

"Possibly, if properly decimalized," Mudbutton confirmed. "There are some other possibilities under consideration, with one of the most ambitious being a unified currency for Magical Europe, though the First Citizen does not see such as immediately viable."

"A unified..." Shinji blinked. "How would that even work? What would it be backed by?" Would each government have to have a reserve of precious metals and gems, or a similar economic policy? Would there have to be some kind of economic union, or some kind of supranational group to determine monetary policy? "For that matter, what is our current currency backed by?"

"The Ministry's currency, by their word. Albion's...at present, a reserve of American dollars and precious metals."

"American dollars?" Shinji echoed, blinking. "Those...can't just be duplicated?"

"Not magically," the goblin noted with something like a smile. "For humans, the Americans do some wonderful things with paper."

"Huh," Shinji grunted. "Why not Fr—ah, right, the propaganda. People still fear and hate France and others on the Continent."

"Yes."

The Americans, on the other hand, were more of an unknown, and had no reason to be involved in British politics, nor the ability to reach there by magical means, so far as the average person knew. They were also native English speakers, and so they were likely seen as safer, even if they had their own weird quirks.

"They're a big investor in Gobcorp, aren't they? The Americans, I mean."

"They are," Mudbutton confirmed. "They have made some promises, but time will tell if they are more trustworthy than any other wizards." The Spectre went quiet for a moment. "You've met some, yes?"

"I have."

"What was...what were they like?" the goblin inquired, unable to hide a note of longing in his voice. "Were they…"

"Well, one was a shaman," Shinji related, noting how Mudbutton's eyes narrowed at that admission. "I fought beside her on the Isle of Thule to defeat an incarnation of decay and destruction. She wasn't the most powerful person I've fought beside–" That honor belonged to Elesa, from what he'd seen. "—but she had uncommon skill, and could awaken the memories of what something was."

"Oh?"

"She could use the feather of a phoenix to bring about renewal, or cause the land to shift into a form it had once held. Have items remember they were supposed to be whole, or more…" He smiled slightly. "Ramona was something, certainly. But what I remember isn't her power, it is her kindness, her willingness to listen – though perhaps that is related to her power as well."

"I see."

"There's also Rebekah, the assistant to the American President," he offered, thinking that it would probably be unwise to speak of his adventures with Elesa, given that he didn't think her status as one of the Chosen was public knowledge. "She too was…generous. Even kind. Unexpected of a politician."

"Kind?"

"Yes. She forgave my debts and worked with me to ensure that the Ministry could not seize what I had created for themselves," he reflected, remembering their conversation. "But that seems to be what Americans are like, in my experience. Powerful, but kind."

"Perhaps you would be interested in sparring with one of the Americans who has been assisting us with training then, since you have some insight into them?" Tomas questioned.

"Oh, an American?"

"Yes, a man who goes by the name of Jack," the Wizard-Marshal replied. "As I understand it, your companion caused a bit of a ruckus yesterday?"

"…unfortunately, yes."

"In that case, you will be sparring with members of the Liberation Forces, and those in training, as well as some other individuals of interest for 2 hours a day," Tomas noted. "Consider it training."

"…and Tohsaka?" Shinji asked, his voice kept polite only through the greatest of strains.

"As she is part of your squad, I leave her discipline to you," the Marshal said. "Consider it part of learning to lead."

"…as you wish, Marshal," the boy agreed, none to happy about this turn of events. He would make sure Tohsaka understood her forward behavior was neither wanted nor acceptable, administering a punishment he was sure her body would remember.

"Glad to hear it, Matou. Is there anything else?"

Shinji shook his head.

"Then you are dismissed. Sparring will begin tomorrow, so don't be late."


	11. Fight or Flight

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 11. **_Fight or Flight_

'_Matou…is…a monster…'_

So were the thoughts passing through the mind of Tohsaka Rin as she ran, the _slap-slap-slap_ of her feet hitting the pavement seeming loud as thunder in her current environs. She was tired, no, exhausted, her legs feeling like jelly and her breathing ragged from running for what seemed like hours at her maximum possible speed under reinforcement, but as much as she wanted to stop, she couldn't.

If she did, _they_ would be upon her in moments, their claws rending the thin layers of fabric that served as what little protection she had against the bitter chill, with their flames pouring through the gap and no doubt roasting her to charcoal.

She'd learned as much from the one time she had dared to slow down, to indulge the aching of her body, as those _things _hadclosed the distance and attacked, with their shrill, mocking cries of _REE REE REE_ still echoing in her ears.

They'd done their best to turn her into a human torch, with the girl having to rip away her skirt before the fire had spread to the rest of her clothing, tossing it behind her in a vain attempt to distract them, but they'd just evaded before swooping at her again, forcing her to leap out of the way of another fiery blast.

'_Why…why is Matou doing this to me?!'_

With speed lent by desperation, she'd managed to open the distance between her and the winged _abominations _that Matou had created with a mere wave of his hand, before telling her to _run, _his golden eyes glinting with a cold malice as he'd observed her plight, her desperate attempts to keep ahead of the claws, the wings, the flames.

He'd come to her room after a long day, his voice like honey and his gaze filled with an intensity that made her blush as he invited her to join him for a bit of nighttime exercise. She'd accepted of course, her mind going wild as she imagined what she thought he'd meant – that this time, he was going to make her a woman, away from the prying eyes of…of that _maid_, that soon enough, the aches and pains of a day of training would be washed away by unimaginable pleasure.

The fact that he'd blindfolded her and whispered sensually in her ear that he hoped she liked the surprise he had in store, as he took her by the hand and led them outside, only made her wonder what would transpire next.

Except that what had come next once they'd reached their destination and the blindfold was ripped from her as roughly as she imagined Matou might rip apart her clothes out of desire for her body, had been the very stuff of nightmares, with her shy gaze falling on the snarling visage of what she thought Matou Shinji must have looked like to his enemies: a monster of scales and veins of fire, regarding her with utter contempt, as if she was a stain to be wiped away, with a swarm of beasts of scales and fangs flanking him.

"_**Run,"**_ he'd told her, and run she had, with Matou's beasts burst into motion, seemingly intent on her destruction, even as Matou had laughed and laughed and _laughed_.

He was gone now, hours gone, she thought, but the _things _he'd created remained, continuing to pursue her. She'd tried blowing them out of the air with _gandr_, but the beasts – the _dragons – _hadsimply avoided her clumsy blasts, without even losing much ground. And try as though she might, she couldn't get away, couldn't escape the threat they posed.

Oh, in the beginning, she'd burst into sprints to try and pull away from them, but sprints by their very nature weren't sustainable, and as she inevitably slowed down in the wake of those exertions, the winged, scaled monstrosities would close the distance, until her situation was worse than before she'd begun to sprint in the first place.

That had been…she didn't know how long it had been, only that she'd been running for her life ever since, eking every bit of speed she could out of her body in a desperate attempt to keep from being turned to cinders. Which was considerable, given that Reinforcement allowed her to run faster – and longer – than any normal human, but it hadn't mattered, as her pursuers hadn't been human to begin with, but _things_ Matou had created solely to torment her.

_REE REE REE_

Shrill, inhuman cries chased after her, forcing her onward through her exhaustion, through the pain of a body being pressed up against its limits, while her circuits _burned_ beneath her skin as she kept on reinforcing her bones and muscles. Prana she had plenty of – more than most magi alive, what with the massive capacity she'd been born with – but even if her magical energy had been limitless, her body's ability to make use of it, much less her mind's ability to withstand the pain of doing so, were not.

Eventually, she would falter.

Eventually, she would fall.

Eventually, she wou—

_Whump._

'_Huh…what…'_

Why…why was she on the ground, laying on her side, not moving at all as the hated cries of her pursuers came closer, closer, ever closer? Why…why wouldn't her body—

And then they were on her, as white-hot agony washed over her, consuming her…

…until, mercifully, the darkness finally took her.

* * *

While Tohsaka was fleeing from what she considered beasts from hell, the being that called itself Matou Shinji was dealing with its own struggles, as he was fighting desperately against a trio of goblins, with Jack, his assigned partner, nowhere in sight.

When Tomas had first assigned him to spar with member of the Liberation Forces and other individuals of interest, Matou Shinji hadn't thought much of it. After all, with his experiences on the Isle of Thule, where he'd fought monstrosities and remnants of the Age of Gods, facing mere goblins should be child's play, especially if they were only using wands (which, as he knew, they had only recently learned to use).

Even if he limited himself to using his wand-staff, ofuda, and Tohsaka's mechanical owl, purposefully refraining from tapping into the power of his draconic aspect, he hadn't thought he'd have any trouble, so long as the numbers weren't absurdly skewed against him.

One on one, two on one, even five on one, he didn't think would be much trouble, for there was a difference between quality and quantity – and even if the goblins had been trained by a prodigy like Tomas, how long could _they_ have had to internalize what witchcraft was capable of?

Yet, despite his raw power and the edge that ofuda gave him, as well as the benefit of having battlefield surveillance from the mechanical owl Tohsaka wasn't currently using, he found that most of the fights were...quite difficult, especially since the duels weren't happening on some field of honor or arena, but in an urban environment, where there were environmental hazards to consider and plenty of opportunities for ambushes.

This was particularly the case in a modern city like (Muggle) London, where one had to worry about underground gas lines, possibly drawing the attention of law enforcement, or of course, annoying the magi who called London home, though even in a place like Hogsmeade or Magical London, there were dangers to consider, especially if one couldn't – due to ability or practicalities – burn down everything in one's path.

'_Traditionally, practitioners of witchcraft fight duels in open spaces, with members of a group splitting up to face an opponent each. They don't really have a sense for how to work together in proper squads very well.'_

This was true of many practitioners, though not of elite formations such as the Reclaimer Mercenary Company, and notably, not of the goblins of the Albion Liberation Forces, as the ones he fought against had been trained as soldiers long before they were spellcasters, and so didn't make the same mistakes as those who had been spellcasters before soldiers.

Certainly, they made mistakes, but they were mistakes Matou Shinji didn't know to expect from experience, which meant he had trouble taking advantage of them. And then, too, he made his own share of mistakes _because_ of his experience, as there had been a time or two that he'd forgotten that the fact that a foe was holding a wand now didn't mean they wouldn't switch to something else if it was more advantageous.

A knife, for example. Or an ax.

More than once he'd yielded – or been forced to yield – after one of his opponents taken advantage of his surprise to press their attacks, shifting the battle from a magical one to one of muscle and might – and given that he was limited to his human form, that wasn't a battle he could necessarily win, given he wasn't nearly as adept in melee as he was at range.

If he'd been wearing the armor the Americans had given him, things would be different, but he'd loaned that to Tohsaka. Likewise, if he'd trained under Rachelle Sondrol for the previous year, the boy imagined that he would have much less trouble dealing with an opponent in a melee, that perhaps he'd be good enough to quickly dispatch an enemy to avoid them tying him down for the rest of a squad to focus fire upon him, which had happened far too many times for his liking before he'd learned to avoid those sorts of confrontations.

He'd very quickly learned that the value of the owl lay not in its offensive capability, but in its reconnaissance abilities, as knowing where an enemy – or group of enemies – was, meant that he could choose how and when to engage.

Not that such intelligence was infallible, as his foes learned to adapt, moving under cover, deploying decoys, sending an individual off as a distraction or using other such tactics to make his reconnaissance data less reliable.

…Shinji could only assume that all of this was according to Lockhart's grand design, since he supposed that Ministry forces might use broom-riders to scout the approaches to Hogsmeade, and so the goblins needed to learn how to deal with situations where enemies had air superiority, even said enemies did not make attack runs from the air.

'_I suppose if one isn't used to integrating aerial capabilities into one's armed forces, it would be easy to dismiss broomriders and other such things as just another type of attacker to deal with, as opposed to an element whose presence or absence can alter the entire flow of a battle, or turn victory into defeat.'_

Knowledge, after all, was power, if it was judiciously applied – something any Ravenclaw knew well.

Aside from the matters of strategic importance, however, Shinji was quickly finding that even on a one-to-one basis, some of his opponents had been absolutely deadly, like the one goblin who had swatted him aside when they'd clashed.

Barely a moment after the duel had begun, the goblin, who had been wearing some sort of bulky-looking green and purple armor, had blasted him off his feet with shockwaves from an explosive bolt of power that had detonated mere centimeters from him. He'd been dazed for a moment – and only a moment – but that had been all the time his foe had needed to close the distance and knock him out.

When revived some moments later, Shinji had been in utter shock at how the goblin had managed to do that – with his incredulity growing as he discovered that the explosive bolts were only one of the features of the goblin's _powered armor. _Armor that was apparently equipped with some kind of flight wing that gave its owner the ability to fight in the sky, could use the gemino spell to conjure up a never-ending supply of throwing knives (so long as it had prana), featured strength and speed augmentation, on top of being able to resist or deflect many single actions spells and a prana suppression field which shredded the shields of nearby enemies.

…oh, and it could apparently fire _blasts of elemental energy _on the scale of high-level magecraft.

It was like someone had found a way to take Jewelcraft and integrate it into a highly sophisticated weapon system platform that turned its wearer into a veritable juggernaut that even many magi would be envious of.

'_Who the fuck is this guy?!' _he'd wondered, only to calm down somewhat when he was informed by one of the other goblins that this was the Green Goblin, revered as the current Artificer.

Looking upon his victorious foe, he was tempted – sorely tempted – to shift into his draconic form and see how a being of flesh and metal fared against even a fraction of his true strength, to test if the artificer's work could endure the glory of dragonfire. He could _feel _his eyes growing _sharper, _his teeth more jagged, the fire welling up inside his nerves and veins just _waiting _to be called.

He even took a step forward, before he reminded himself that this was supposed to be training, not a battle to the death, and the artificer, too, had been holding back (or at least not fighting to kill), so it wasn't as if the goblin had defeated him in the fullness of his strength.

That battle would come eventually, and when it did…he would be ready.

It wasn't as if he didn't already know there were people far greater than he – it was just that he never expected a goblin to be one of them. For a mere thing of dirt to create something which could overcome one who held the soul of an ancient wyrm…it was nearly unthinkable, and yet, he supposed the children of the stone were not altogether unworthy.

So they proved over and over again, though Matou Shinji managed to hold his own in most other fights, proving that his fearsome reputation wasn't entirely undeserved.

'_Even with that, I'm probably not going to win this fight.'_

After all, in this current five on two, the five included the Artificer, Emilia – whose power and flexibility made her a nightmare to face on the field, and three dangerous looking goblins, all of which were skilled at wand and blade, while the two were Shinji and…a nondescript man in a hooded robe, almost like the one the Stone Cutters had been gifted long ago.

The man, who'd called himself "Jack" (noting that his last name wasn't really of import) and who, by his accent, seemed like an American, hadn't seemed particularly worried, something which had only made Shinji worry, as he hadn't seen the other man around before – and he wasn't at all sure the man knew what he was getting into.

_'Maybe he just doesn't know how bad the situation is. Emilia is bad enough on her own, but combined with the Artificer? There's...there's no way I can win this, not as a human. Not with some random Stone Cutter impersonator as my partner.'_

"You seem concerned, Nines," the man had noted, his tone relaxed and casual, as if the upcoming match was of little concern. "Is something the matter?"

"Is something the..." Shinji had echoed, his voice incredulous, before he caught himself. "Are you aware of how dangerous they are? Our opponents?" he asked, trying a different tack.

"Oh, that?" the other had responded. "Certainly, though they don't get any less dangerous if I fret, so I don't."

"Are all of you Americans so...self-assured?" the boy had wondered, remembering that Elesa had been one to shrug off danger as well. "Or just those of you who go abroad?"

"Just those of us who know the difference between a life and death battle, or a relatively friendly spar," the man had replied. "Which I'm not sure our opponents do. They have power and no small amount of talent, but they're green."

"Which means..."

"That for all the bravery and cunning they may possess, they don't have the benefit of experience," Jack had replied easily. "They're still new at this, and they won't know what to expect from us."

"And you do?" Shinji had asked, raising an eyebrow. "You...you don't look a day over...30?"

The man had only chuckled.

"You should see my boss," was all he'd said in reply. Before he could say anything else though, a bell rung, indicating that it would soon be time to begin. "Since I'm only a visitor, and you're an officer, I'll defer to you. Only polite, after all."

"…I guess," Shinji had answered, reluctantly accepting command of what he imagined was going to be an utter disaster. "What can do you do anyway?"

Sadly, unlike Elesa, who had used ridiculous implements such as an Astra, or other such things, the man he was partnered with favored apparently mundane daggers as his primary weapons, which, given that their enemies were Emilia, the Artificer, and three goblins, was rather disheartening, as he didn't see any way for a dagger user to beat them.

Still, it wasn't as if Jack was an Agent of the US Government who had access to all sorts of items and unnatural abilities, much less one of the Chosen, who could stand against even echoes of the First Age, so the boy tried to moderate his expectations of what the man would be capable of.

'_I mean, I can't be too disappointed if – no, when, I lose – since I have no reason to expect victory here.'_ Though was that really how he should feel? Should he not try to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat? Or…

"How are you so calm?" he'd managed to ask, just before things began. "Even in the face of what might be defeat?"

"Remember, this isn't a life or death situation," Jack had replied. "The stakes are low. It isn't as if we're facing the Filth, you know."

"That's tr—wait, _what?" _Shinji had questioned, as his mind caught up to his mouth. "Did you just say _the Filth? How…?_"

"I'll tell you if we lose," the American had answered almost flippantly.

"You know, most people say 'if we win,' or 'when we win,'" the boy had pointed out, feeling slightly irritated at how Jack wasn't taking this seriously at all.

"Well, I'm not most people, now am I?" Jack had questioned, raising an eyebrow. "That said, any orders, _commander?"_

Shinji's mouth had opened, then closed, then opened, then closed again.

"…just do what you want," the boy had said with resignation.

Jack, surprisingly, had saluted at that.

"Will do, Commander."

…which brought Matou Shinji back to the current situation, with Jack having vanished, while he was desperately trying to evade three heavily armed goblins who were rapidly closing in on his position. If he had fusion, or was tapping into his draconic powers, he wouldn't be worried, but with merely human limits – something he hadn't had to worry about in a while – he might very well lose.

'_Even on a one on one fight, that's possible, much less for a one on three.'_

Still, he had _ofuda_, so perhaps that would be enough. Or so he hoped as he left a number of _disillusioned_ paper talismans behind him as he moved, willing them to spread out across his surroundings. Would they be enough, he wondered?

'_Well, I suppose we'll have to see.'_

He could see through the eyes of the owl that the first of the goblins was about to enter the area where he was, so he braced himself, and even as a jet of azure light left the tip of the creature's wand, Matou Shinji had already disappeared, _flowing _behind the enemy and blasting the goblin in the back with a _Confringo, _before vanishing again as a second goblin arrived onto the scene, wielding a wicked-looking ax in one hand and a wand in the other.

"_Kai!" _the boy shouted as he reappeared on a roof, directing a swarm of invisible _ofuda _at the interloper. The goblin's head snapped up towards the sound of the cry, but before he could fully track where it had come from, the talismans _struck, _detonating with a roar like a mountain had collapsed, disabling the second of his foes.

At the sound of footsteps, the boy whirled about, his wand extending into a staff just in time to block a blade that would have otherwise cut into him – though he was unable to kill the momentum of his attacker, and so was flung off a roof.

In mid-air, as he was plummeting to his doom, he _flowed_ to one of the few _ofuda _he had left, out of sight, even as he commanded the mechanical owl to come in for an attack run, sending razor sharp feather darts at the last of the goblins.

It turned instinctively to deal with the attack, and in that moment, Shinji vanished, and reappeared behind the goblin, with his staff growing to full extension with explosive speed, knocking the goblin – who had been caught in mid-swing at the swooping owl – off of the roof, with gravity doing what raw skill could not.

Panting, Shinji looked around, anxious to see if his short confrontation had drawn any attention, only to find that everything was silent, utterly so.

With a chime, the simulation dissolved around him, with the boy rather surprised to see a number of figures about, with the Artificer scowling – and for once, bereft of his armor. Indeed, the Green Goblin was bent over the suit, which had fallen to the ground in some strange position.

And of Emilia, there was nothing to be seen.

'_No. Wait…'_

There was something on the ground near the armor, looking rather annoyed – something…

'…_the _tanuki's _true form?'_

Shinji blinked.

'_What the hell?'_

Had Jack somehow…?

"Ah, I see you were successful in taking out your share of our enemies," the man noted from where he was seated against a wall, with a small cloud of sweet-smelling smoke wafting from the cigar in his hand. "Congratulations."

"You…how?"

"Well, I merely took on two, you took on three, which was the greater challenge, was it not?"

Shinji scowled.

"…you took out the Artificer and reverted Emilia to her base form somehow," the boy said slowly. "How the hell did you…?"

"Experience," was the man's laconic reply. "Power alone only takes you so far without knowing how to apply it. You would do well to remember this."

"…I will." Shinji took a deep breath. "I don't suppose—"

"I used my knives, and a small bit of magic. That was all," the man pre-empted.

"…just who are you, exactly?"

"Just an old dog who has been around his fair share of battlefields," came the enigmatic response. "And who knows that it isn't the tool one is using that matters most, but the skill with which one wields it."

"I see."

* * *

In the wake of that spar/battle/what have you, the two hours were finally up, and Matou Shinji headed over to the locker room to get cleaned up after the long series of fights he'd had. Combat was difficult, tiring – sweaty – work, and he wanted to be sure that he didn't smell when he went to go check on Tohsaka.

It was a good thing, perhaps, that he hadn't worn anything too special for the spars – just a set of robes like any other that he didn't feel bad about peeling off and stepping out of, letting them fall to the floor as he padded over to one of the showers and turned on the water, an explosive sigh of pleasure escaping his lips as the jets of almost scalding hot water struck his skin.

The warmth of the water helped him to relax, soothing his aches away, while the white noise of the shower formed a barrier of sound that isolated him from the outside world, letting him finally feel at ease – and giving him the space he needed to contemplate the past two hours.

'…_that was harder than I thought it would be,' _he reflected. Between how well-trained the goblins had been by the standards of British practitioners, how little his experience on the Isle and fighting various beasts had prepared him for this, and the utter surprise that he had experienced at the end, with the American, Jack, somehow defeating the opposing team's heavy hitters without anyone being the wiser, the boy had begun to realize just how little he knew about the art of war. _'I've been lucky, in my own way, as I've been able to rely on fusion for most of my encounters with dangerous opponents.'_

Fusion, superior equipment, or in the case of the Ministry, the power of an elder Wyrm.

Without those things…

'…_I have a lot to learn.'_

Indeed, there was a vast gulf of experience that separated him from someone like Tomas, or…from Jack, he supposed, to say nothing of Lockhart. And if he didn't do his best to bridge that gulf how he would…

'_Then I'll die, especially if I am ever caught without an advantage in power.'_

Matou Shinji had found himself in such a situation on the Isle of Thule, when he had come face to face with an avatar of an Outer God, and so had perished, though to his credit, he _had_ managed to take down his foe in the process. As the entity that bore his name and memories, that was a hell of a legacy to live up to.

No, not merely to live up to, to _surpass._

'_But how…how will I…?'_

The boy paused, interrupted from his reverie by the feeling of delicate hands brushing the skin of his back. He turned to look behind him to see…

"…Emilia?" he asked uncertainly. "What are you…?"

"I thought you could use some help washing up," the _tanuki_ responded distantly_. _She had managed to recover her usual guise, with the curves and grooves of her rather spectacular body on full display, something that made the boy swallow, as he hadn't realized quite how attractive she was before. "Seemed like you had a lot on your mind," she continued, as her fingers traced small circles on the small of his back, making him moan with pleasure. "Enough so that you forgot to bring in any soap," she added saucily, the corners of her lips tugging upwards ever so briefly.

"Ah well…" It was true that he hadn't brought any such to the headquarters building, but then, he supposed he hadn't really been thinking about what he'd need for after the sparring. _'…there's a lot of things I haven't been thinking about.' _"I did forget…didn't I?" he mused, averting his gaze from her shapely form. "Foolish of me."

"It happens to the best of us," Emilia responded, her fingers brushing up and down his spine. "I would be happy to share if you so desire, Commander," the _tanuki_ continued. "That is…I'll wash your back if you wash mine."

The boy swallowed.

"…please," he allowed, his voice hoarse. "I'd…thank you."

"Of course," the _tanuki _noted, as she squeezed something onto her hands and began soaping up his back, working up a thick lather. "Monsters like us have to take care of each other after all."

"'Monsters like us'?" he repeated.

"You don't have to hide it – I'm quite aware of your nature," Emilia responded. "You're not the same as you were when we fought months ago. I've read the reports, but those aren't quite accurate, are they?"

"…I suppose not," he conceded slowly, closing his eyes. "This isn't just about washing my back, is it?" he asked.

"Of course, it isn't," Emilia murmured. "I wanted us to be able to chat privately, and this is one of the few places that Miss Suoirtsulli's familiars don't monitor."

"And I suppose I can't exactly run away, can I, with you between me and the door," the boy noted with a sigh.

"There is that," the _tanuki _admitted.

"Right. What did you want to talk about, then?" he asked, trying to ignore just how good her fingers felt against his skin, as they massaged away knots of tension he hadn't even really been aware of.

"About humans and others that have only one shape," came the reply. "In some ways, they're frail beings, with so many limits that monsters like you and I lack. And yet, some of them find ways to work around such limits, becoming far more of a danger than otherwise expected."

"Like Jack?"

"Ugh…that is the example of the hour," Emilia agreed. "What with him beating both the artificer and myself."

"How did he do that anyway?" Shinji inquired, turning to face the woman, then away as he realized just how close she was.

"A knife and a bit of power," came the response. "His blade sank right into the armor and discharged something which overloaded the suppression field on it. Imagine my shock when I was forced back into my base form, with the Green Goblin's armor crashing to the ground near me, unable to move." He felt, more than saw, her shake her head. "One knife was all he needed."

"A knife? How did it…" the boy trailed off. "How did it just sink into that armor? It wasn't—"

"—enchanted? No. I could see that much."

"Then—"

"It was extraordinarily sharp," the _tanuki _responded. "Sharper than anything I've ever seen, though it was ruined the moment it cut into the armor." There was a pause. "It would have been ruined the moment it cut into anything, really, even if it can cut into just about anything."

"How…why…he used that kind of weapon in something that _wasn't_ a life or death battle?" Shinji questioned, his voice rising sharply.

"Only a copy of the original, but yes," Emilia answered. "The American is a dangerous man, and one I can't quite read properly."

"You mean…"

"I can't quite transform into him, much as I would not be able to transform into a fusion user's fused state," came the answer. "I can get close, but close doesn't count for much."

"Huh."

"On the subject of limits though, you should be careful with Tohsaka," the _tanuki_ warned, even as her hands strayed from his back to his arms and shoulders.

"Tohsaka?"

"She is, after all, only human," Emilia noted. "And if you push her too hard, too fast, she'll break."

"Break?" Shinji echoed. "I was just having her run for a couple of hours, while the sparring was going on. That shouldn't have been too bad. I mean – _I _wasn't breathing hard by the end of this, was I? Mere running shouldn't tire anyone out."

"Well, for monsters like us, that's true," Emilia noted. "But Tohsaka isn't like us. And unlike someone like Jack, she doesn't have the experience and training needed to overcome her human weaknesses." She paused. "Which was why she collapsed during her training, with your drakes setting her alight."

"Wait, _what_?!" Shinji whirled about, his eyes wide. "What do you mean, she collapsed?"

"She stopped running. Not because she chose to, but because she couldn't run anymore, and your drakes, following your instructions, set her on fire."

"Oh…oh god…is she…?"

"Mostly unharmed, thanks to Miss Suoirtsulli," the _tanuki _responded. "She had minor burns, which we are treating her for, though what she will probably mind more is the loss of her hair."

"Ah…" Shinji grunted, feeling like he'd made a terrible mistake. "I see." He supposed that perhaps demanding that she continue to run for two hours, without slowing down, without pause, might have been unreasonable, given that she merely flesh and blood. He'd thought that he was letting her off with a slap on the wrist, given how she'd embarrassed him, but…it seemed he had miscalculated.

"It happens with beings like us. We forget that humans have their own foibles and weaknesses, when we live among them," Emilia noted, shaking her head, not unkindly. "As much as we blend in, as much as people don't notice how different we are, we should remember that we are not the same as them. What we can do, they often cannot. Yet their limits have a way of lending them focus, helping them redefine themselves in ways we - or simply I - cannot."

"Getting philosophical on me, Emilia?"

"It has been known to happen every now and again," the tanuki replied. "Especially around others who can understand me."

"You think I can?"

"Can't you? You're as human as I am - which is to say, not at all."

Shinji sighed.

"...I wish I would argue with that. But I can't. I'd just be lying to myself."

"And we all know you have never been one for that, hm?"

"...are you implying something?"

"Not at all, Commander," the tanuki stated. "On the subject of Miss Tohsaka, however, how do you intend to deal with her?"

"…I suppose I should apologize. I did, after all, forget her merely human limits," the boy noted, shaking his head. "You'll tell me the way to the infirmary, I trust?"

"Certainly, after we finish up here," the _tanuki_ answered, turning around. "On that note, now that I've washed your back, it's your turn to wash mine," she noted, flashing the boy a saucy little smile. "Don't be shy now."

* * *

After the shower, Matou Shinji found himself wandering towards the infirmary of the Albion government headquarters, as he was somewhat worried about Tohsaka. Only when he got there, he found that he wasn't alone, as a painfully familiar red-haired woman stood by the sleeping girl's bedside, looking down at her sedated form as one might look down at an insect.

"Master," Shinji greeted quietly, as he stepped up beside Aozaki Touko, the master puppeteer who had taught him so much. "What brings you here?"

"Wondering what trouble my wayward apprentice had gotten herself into," the magus drawled.

"And before that?" the boy questioned. "I wouldn't think you'd just _happen_ to be around Magical London."

"Business," the puppeteer replied curtly. "The First Citizen of Albion was apparently impressed by the defenses of your manor and asked me to do what I could to enhance the security of his headquarters. Apparently, he wishes to ensure that London does not fall a second time."

"Ah."

"After that, I will be heading to your manor, given that some others may be staying here for a prolonged while. Though your new physiology already makes that necessary."

Shinji winced.

"..I see," were the words that escaped his mouth, as opposed to what he might have wanted to say to his ever cryptic former mentor. "How are you doing now that Tomas is..."

"Now that my former assistant is seeking his own fortune?" the magus inquired.

"Well, yes..."

"Busier," was the puppeteer's succinct response. "Though I hear the same applies to you." She looked him up and down, as if sizing him up, something that made the boy feel slightly uncomfortable. "Defeating an army singlehandedly. Becoming a squad commander. Oh, and meeting Death face to face." She chuckled throatily. "Matou. Even if magi usually describe what they do as walking as death, few take it so...literally."

"There...actually wasn't much walking involved," the boy quibbled, if only because he figured that there was no harm in poking at that little detail. "From either of us, actually."

"Indeed. I read the report," the puppeteer noted grimly. "Funny. You don't seem to be any more of a monster than I am." She lapsed into silence for a long moment as she looked down at the hairless girl laying in the bed before her. "So. Tohsaka. Have you taken her yet?"

"Taken...?"

Touko raised an eyebrow.

"Slept with. Shagged. Fucked. Engaged in car-"

"N-no. That - none of that happened! Or will happen."

The magus harrumphed.

"How disappointing," she said with a slight smirk. "For her, that is. She seemed so eager to join you, firm in the belief that you would accept her into your bed and by your side, only to discover that life is often not what we wish it is. Tell me...how is my wayward apprentice doing under your...care?"

Shinji sighed when he heard the question. He didn't want to lie to his former Master, and yet…

"As well as you would expect," he replied diplomatically.

"Which is to say not doing well at all?" the magus pointed out caustically.

"Well…let's just say that I'm working on fixing her bad habits," the boy said after some moments.

"I see," Touko noted, somehow seeming like she'd expected such an answer. "So she remains as much of a disappointment as ever. I had hoped that her taking initiative for something for once meant she had changed in some way. I suppose I expected too much. A zero remains a zero, however much it is multiplied by."

Shinji winced.

"Don't you think that's a bit harsh, Master?" he questioned, finding himself frowning at the puppeteer's harsh words.

"No, I don't," was the response, with the magus shaking her head. "Given your background, I can see why you would wish to salvage what you can from her, but there are times when someone useless is best put aside. You _have_ heard of the sunk cost fallacy?"

"...I have."

"I spent half a year training her, and in that time she learned less than you did in a single summer," the puppeteer noted simply. "A spoiled girl who had everything handed to her in life, from her position as heiress and the lands that come with it, to her Crest, to an inheritance that allows her to thoughtlessly destroy a fortune in gems every time she fights – someone like that is simply not capable of becoming a good magus." She paused. "At least, that is what my experience tells me. What do you say, Matou?"

"I…" the boy sighed again. "It's true that Tohsaka is narrow-minded, given her upbringing. That she needs to expand her views and horizons. That as she is now, she will not make a good magus. But people can change," he pointed out. "They can redefine who they are, given enough effort. That's why she is in my squad, so that she can be exposed to new ideas, forced to realize how little she knows."

"To what end?"

"To give her the tools she needs to choose her own path," Shinji replied. "I've been fortunate enough to be able to choose mine, so I think she at least deserves a chance to choose hers, whether she chooses to follow in her father's footsteps as a magus, or as something else."

"Hmph. You are kinder than I expected, Matou," the puppeteer noted, almost reproachfully. "Kinder than I would be, certainly." There was a moment's hesitation from Aozaki Touko's part, something Shinji picked up on and was about to question when she spoke again. "I will be town for business for a few days, and at the end of the week, I intend to have dinner with a few...associates," the puppeteer noted. "Business, again, but it may prove interesting for you to attend, if you so desire."

"Ah, thank you, Master!"

Aozaki Touko glanced down at the hairless form of Tohsaka, laying on the bed before her.

"I suppose if you desire, you can bring Tohsaka along, though it is likely to be a formal affair."

"…may I ask who these associates are you'll be dining with?"

"You may ask."

"…but you won't answer."

"I can tell you that Miss Kyrielight will be there. Aside from that, it is not my place to say."

"…I'd better not bring Tohsaka then," he said, glancing down at Rin. "The last thing I need is for her to cause me – or herself – any more trouble."

"And here I thought you liked trouble, Matou."

"I don't go looking for it, if that's what you mean."

Aozaki Touko raised a slender red eyebrow.

"Often."

The eyebrow was raised yet higher.

"…I don't go looking for it _all the time?_"

"It seems you can be accurate if you try," the puppeteer noted, reaching into her pocket and withdrawing a cigarette. "Speaking of trouble, do you still want the armor you requested cut into…the form you desired on the isle? It's not too late for me to give you those experimental mystic eyes instead."

Shinji snorted despite himself, as he imagined what it would be like if he indeed had eyes that could shoot gandr spells.

"Master, please, don't joke about things like this."

"Who's joking?"


	12. The Measure of Monsters

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 12. **_The Measure of Monsters_

Matou Shinji felt somewhat conflicted as he saw Tohsaka emerge from the infirmary, seeming rather disgruntled from the poking and prodding that she'd endured. Still, the Japanese girl seemed no worse for wear from her ordeal the day before…except for the loss of her hair, which some magi had called their lifeline, given that one _could_ store prana in there, but it wasn't as if Tohsaka was someone like Aozaki Touko, whose hair could have purchased the services of a familiar powerful enough to fight Dead Apostles and the like.

"Matou," she said, coming to a halt as her eyes fell on him.

"Tohsaka," the boy greeted.

"Come to gloat?" the Japanese girl questioned.

"No, to apologize," Shinji replied, frowning as he said the words. He didn't really like admitting that he had been wrong, since it rubbed against his pride, but in this case, her injuries had been his fault.

"Apologize?" Rin echoed. "For what? You knew what would happen when you set those beasts on me, didn't you? That eventually I would collapse and…_this_ would happen?"

"…not exactly," the boy answered. "I thought you would be able to endure what I thought a rather mild punishment, but I suppose I…overestimated you." He glanced over her, shaking her head.

"What."

"In the future, I will take into account your merely human limits."

Rin went very still as she heard what in her mind was a half-baked, half-sneering apology, her not inconsiderable intellect quickly drawing the right implications from his choice of words.

"My merely _human_ limits, Matou?" she asked. "Are you saying...you aren't human?"

Shinji paused, surprised that the girl had picked up on this. Perhaps she wasn't completely worthless after all.

"If you must know, every practitioner of witchcraft is somewhat inhuman," he admitted after a moment. "That monstrous blood is the source of our power, after all, however dilute it may have become for most over the ages."

"…for most, but not for you."

"Clever," the boy growled, as skin shifted to scales and grey eyes to gold for a moment, before reverting to his usual appearance. "You are correct. Where I was once like _them_, my experience on the isle…changed me, allowing me to become something _more, _something far greater than a mere practitioner of witchcraft."

"…just _what_ are you?" Tohsaka whispered. "You're not…you're not the Matou Shinji I used to know…"

"The Matou Shinji you know died on that island, after a number of assassination attempts from his peers and tortures from the Age of Gods that would have driven most anyone mad." His gaze hardened as he thought back to the Trial of Courage, and the many scenarios he – or his former self, rather – had been subjected to. "You were one of my torturers, you know," he added, almost offhandedly.

"M-me?" the Japanese girl squeaked.

"Yes. In the course of what seemed like a year, you – or someone in your guise – drained my power till I could hardly move, made me tremble and scream to the heavens until I could scream no more, and in the end, tried to make me betray everything I ever believed in, every oath I ever swore," the boy stated coldly. "You – or that _vision _of you – failed, yet the memories of what happened stay with me. Thinking of it…it fills me with a primal sense of…disgust, of revulsion. Something that lingers when I look at you."

"…you seemed fine with kissing me and touching me just a few days ago," Tohsaka said under her breath. "There was no _disgust_ then. No sense you found me revolting." She sniffed. "Until that maid showed up, and you went chasing after _her_." She couldn't quite keep the venom from her voice as she thought back to the night he had nearly made her a woman, and how he had abandoned _her_ for a simple maid.

"You surprised me," he admitted, his voice grave. "And I'll be honest, there was a part of me that had long desired you, a part that your…doppelganger used to its advantage in what it did to me. That was the part that reacted to you." He chuckled coldly. "Don't worry, it won't happen again."

"D-did the bitch of a maid tell you t—"

"Do not speak ill of your betters, _**little girl**_!" Shinji snarled, a sudden wave of utter rage seeming to radiate from him as he took a step forward…and Rin took a step back, her heart racing as she perceived herself to be in mortal danger. "You, on your best day, are not worth even the clippings of her nails, or the dust of her feet!"

"I…" Rin tried to begin, but found herself unable to, her body trembling under the pressure exerted by Matou's entirely too palpable wrath. It felt…suffocating, like there were claws around her throat, and if she said another word, he would _crush _it and end her wretched existence.

"I could strike you down where you stand right now," the boy mused, a twisted little smirk on his lips. "It would be so _easy_, really, to tear into your mortal flesh and say, devour your still beating heart. To cut you in two or rip out your spine. It's _pathetic_, really," he spat. "You think yourself worthy of walking by my side when you are so very _weak? _Worthy of besmirching the names of my precious companions when you have done _nothing_ to show that you deserve to even breathe the same air? Worthy of my affections when you are always the load?_"_ He snorted. "Life isn't some romantic comedy, Tohsaka. People don't want to be with weak little girls who _don't know their place_!"

He fell silent for a moment as he glanced up, with Tohsaka following his gaze to see a blue bird-shaped familiar perched on the ceiling. Had that…been there all along?

The wave of sheer, corrosive _hatred_ subsided, with Rin looking back at Matou to find that he had his eyes closed, and was forcing himself to take a deep breath, then another, then another, as his body _relaxed_.

"When you run tonight," he said after about a minute of utter silence. "I will allow you several breaks, during which you may slow or stop without penalty. I will ensure the beasts I create are aware of this."

"I…you're still making me run?! After what happened last night?!" Rin sputtered.

Shinji opened his eyes, raising a puzzled eyebrow at her words.

"…yes? That you were burned was unfortunate, but does not exempt you from your punishment," he noted reasonably. "I have already apologized, what more do you want?"

Rin _wanted_ to snap off a comment about how his words weren't much of an _apology, _but she bit her tongue, as she remembered what Matou's wrath had felt like, remembered how _insignificant _she'd felt.

"…understood, Commander," she said at last.

"Good. I have other duties to attend to, so you are dismissed. Do not be late tonight."

Rin also wanted to know what these "other duties" were, but thought better of it once she saw the sapphire bird drop down to Matou's eye level and waggle its wings, with the boy sighing before falling into step behind it as it flew off.

* * *

Over the next couple of weeks both Tohsaka and Matou found themselves training hard in their own ways, with the girl building up her stamina from hours of running each day and Shinji busy with sparring, restoring his _ofuda_ stockpile, and working on sorting out his mind with the help of Mashu, on top of familiarizing himself with how differently things were run in Albion as compared to Magical Britain under the Ministry, and of course, with the movers and shakers of the new state.

As part of this, Matou Shinji had agreed to go to the dinner that his former master had spoken of, and so found himself waiting at the curb in front of his house for transport to that particular affair, dressed to the nines – though not dressed _as Nines_ for once in a long while (which was something of a relief, actually, since one could only assume a persona for so long without adopting some of the traits of that persona…which of course made him wonder about what it must be like for Emilia, whose entire set of abilities revolved around transforming into others, and who rarely spent time in her original form).

What type of conveyance would be sent, he wondered? Something simple or…something more like what he had become accustomed to? The boy wasn't ashamed to admit that he liked the finer things in life, and so was rather pleased to see a Rolls Royce pulling up, with Jeeves exiting from the driver's seat and moving to the rear door.

"Good evening, sir, and may I say it is a pleasure to drive for you again," the chauffeur greeted, bowing slightly.

"The pleasure is mine," Shinji murmured, as the rather tall Nordic-looking man opened the rear door to reveal Mashu already inside, dressed in a rather flattering formal of red and black gown, as he'd only seen once before. It brought back memories of a couple years ago, when he'd taken Illya to the gala at the British Museum.

'…_I really hope that whatever and wherever the dinner is, it won't be at the Museum.'_

This was for rather obvious reasons, given the current fiction going around the Tower that he was dead. A fiction that kept the Einzbern from sending a kill team after the last Matou, and one that would quite frankly be shredded in an instant if he were to walk into the Museum or any official area under the control of the Tower.

"You're coming to dinner as well?" Shinji asked, after he'd seated himself and the door had closed behind him.

"Yes, as Atlas' representative," came the response, with the boy straightening at her words. This...this _was_ an official function then? Should…should he be worried about this? "You have questions?"

"…I don't even know where to begin," the boy admitted. "If this is a function where representatives from major factions of the Moonlit world will be there, then why am I present?" It seemed odd. Very odd. "Unless…" the boy's mouth went dry as he thought of something. "Don't tell me I'm here to represent the interests of Albion?!"

The lilac-haired alchemist let him stew in his anxiety for a moment before she spoke.

"For the purposes of this dinner, you are simply a guest invited by Aozaki Touko, as she mentioned that her former apprentice had some ties to the other factions involved," Mashu explained. "While you _are_ technically an officer representing the interests of Albion, it may be a good idea not to speak unless spoken to, as you are not in a position to dictate policy, while the First Citizen – who will be there – is."

"Ah, so Lockhart will be there to represent Albion," Shinji murmured, feeling rather relieved that someone had taken that particular cup of suffering from him. He was sure that if it had been up to him, he would have made some kind of blunder that would have gotten half the world arrayed against the new polity. "But…why is Atlas here?"

"We have our interests in this new government," the Agent spoke softly. "That is all I can say for now, as you are not yet cleared for the specifics."

"I…see." The boy was silent for a moment as he digested that little tidbit. "Anything else I should know?"

"That it would be unwise to stir up trouble, so you will want to keep your draconic aspect under control, unless you wish to be in violation of guest-right."

"Guest-right?"

"There are many factions represented tonight, some of which have…tensions with the others. As such, civility is important." Mashu paused. "Should you instigate a conflict or altercation, you will be considered to have forfeited the protections you are afforded as a guest and will be dealt with as a hostile agent."

"Huh." Shinji swallowed, not wanting to imagine what would happen if he did indeed provoke offense. Yet, speaking of tensions… "And if I happen to be attacked by someone? What then?" he asked. If the Einzbern were present…

"In all likelihood you will not, but if you are assaulted at the dinner, limit yourself to defense if at all possible," the Agent cautioned. "Do _not_ counterattack."

"...I see. This dinner must be either very important, or very sensitive to warrant that much," he noted, to which Mashu only nodded. "I don't suppose you can say who else is coming, aside from you, Master, and the First Citizen?"

"Representatives of several factions, including the Americans."

"Anyone I should know about?"

"I believe you have met most of the parties involved at least once," Mashu responded. "The only group you are unlikely to be familiar with are the Edelfelts, who are here at the invitation of the First Citizen, to discuss a possible collaboration."

"...the hyenas of the battlefield? W...no, actually that makes sense, if there's going to be a war," the boy muttered. He paused for a moment. "The ah...Director isn't here, is she?"

"Unfortunately, she cannot be present," the Agent replied, with Shinji feeling a flicker of disappointment at that. "I will represent Atlas in her stead, though our Vice-Director will also be present."

"If the Vice Director will be present, why isn't _she_ the leader of the Atlas delegation?" Shinji questioned. "Just curious," he added, realizing too late that his question might be seen as offensive.

"Because the Director has entrusted that responsibility to me," Mashu answered, which was enough to settle the boy's mind on the matter. "Our Vice Director is certainly a skilled Alchemist, but she has some eccentricities, as you may remember from the time you spent with her two winters ago."

"Two winter…Illya? Well, I suppose eccentric is as good a word as any for her," the boy acknowledged, remembering the time they'd spent together two winters ago. "...I haven't seen her in a long time. I wonder if she remembers me."

"She does," Mashu confirmed. "And you will have the opportunity to spend time with her afterwards, if you wish, though I warn she does not look quite as you remember."

"Well, I'm not quite as she remembers, so that makes two of us," he noted, shaking his head. "Speaking of which...are people going to know my nature at a glance?"

"To a degree," the Agent of Atlas affirmed. "Some more than others. It will not cause complications, however."

"And my name and appearance?" he questioned. "As I recall, I am considered - Matou Shinji is considered to be dead - or hospitalized, depending on the faction. If I appear as myself..."

"It would cause more trouble if you used a disguise," Mashu said quietly. "You are a known quantity, and one accepted as trustworthy enough. Nines, your alias, is not."

"Anything else I should know?"

The Agent of Atlas paused for a moment, as if considering what was safe to say.

"Should the Aozaki sisters squabble tonight, do not let yourself be drawn into their argument," she said finally.

"Right, that's-Aozaki sisters?!" the boy went cold at the realization of who she was talking about. "You don't mean...Miss Blue...?"

"Correct."

"Why?"

"I believe the First Citizen wished to discuss employing her - she is currently a free agent, after all."

"I…" He _supposed _it made sense, but…the boy whistled. Lockhart had some serious balls if he was even considering hiring a Magician for his own ends.

'_I mean, yes, he's leading a rebellion against a system that has been in place for hundreds of years, seeking to overthrow the Ministry and everything it stands for, so I knew he had guts. He'd have to, as an _Assassin_, but…' _

Getting Miss Blue involved was something on a whole other level.

"As there are no formal seating arrangements, you may sit with myself and the Vice Director if you would like," Mashu offered, her soothing voice interrupting his thoughts. "Unless you would prefer to sit next to your former Master?"

"…I think I'll accept your generous offer," Shinji replied weakly, wincing as he contemplated how miserable it would be if he ended up between Aozaki Touko and Aozaki Aoko instead. "Please."

For the rest of the ride, Shinji was silent as he worried about just what dinner was going to involve, and whether, despite Mashu's insistence he would be a guest – and therefore protected – he was going to finish the night alive and in one piece.

'…_well, ok, for a given value of alive anyway.'_

* * *

Lost in his thoughts, Shinji couldn't have said how long the ride was, though he was surprised to find that instead of a restaurant (as he'd expected), or the Museum (as he'd feared), the journey came to a end in front of a townhouse much like his own, with First Citizen Gilderoy Lockhart and his secretary, Miss Suoirtsulli personally greeting them as they stepped out of the car.

"Commander Matou, a pleasure you could join us tonight," the Assassin greeted. "And you as well, Miss Kyrielight. We look forward to discussing things with you in more detail tonight."

"There are refreshments inside – please help yourself as we await our remaining guests," the Secretary added. "They will be here in a quarter of an hour."

"Your former Master is inside as well, Matou, if you would like to speak with her," Lockhart noted.

"I…thank you," the boy stated, bowing and proceeding inside as bade, where he found the slightly spiced air rather soothing to his senses. Looking around, he noticed the presence of hooded individuals dressed in attire much like the Stonecutters had worn, holding trays laden with hors d'oeuvres and various colored drinks.

Around them were a number of familiar faces, people he had met over the years – some of which he was on good terms with, and some of which…he was rather more uncertain.

Aozaki Aoko, the Master of the Fifth Magic, was one of the latter, though her conversation partner, Rebekah Huygens, the Special Assistant to the President of MACUSA, one of the former, he thought.

Mashu had moved off into the room to greet Mudbutton and the Green Goblin, who apparently were also here representing Albion interests – and perhaps those of the goblins.

Off in the corner was Tomas, dressed in what had to be a formal uniform, speaking with…Ayaka-s_enpai?!_

Wh-what was the Champion of _Mahoutokoro_ doing here? And if she was here, did that mean that—

"Commander Matou will have a Shirley Temple," a rather familiar voice said from behind him, with Shinji turning to see a certain blonde model dressed in a rather stunning gown, with electric blue butterflies woven into her hair.

"…Miss Labelle," he noted, with a deep bow. As he straightened, one of the waiters passed him a deep red drink, with a cherry on top, which he accepted when he saw it was identical to the one the American Champion was holding. "Ordering drinks for me already, are you?"

"Well, since you decided to…drop in, as it were," came the model's smooth reply, with Shinji wincing internally at this, "it's only right that I look out for my old partner, right?"

"…thanks," the boy said grudgingly. "Is your secretary here tonight too?"

"Eugenia is indeed here, though she works directly for Rebekah these days," was Elesa's answer, gesturing to another part of the room, where the boy saw the white-haired young woman in a stunning black dress, speaking in rapid fire German with…another white-haired young lady.

_`Chloe Ainsworth?` _he thought to himself, as he thought he recognized the woman. She'd been at Kyoto for the New Years festivities, as one of the soloists for Ode to Joy. She was a magus as well, but…what was she doing here?

'_Unless she's an Einzbern, in which case I'm pretty much fucked.'_

"You're curious about who she's talking to?" Elesa questioned, with Shinji nodding. "That would be the Vice Director of Atlas, Illyasviel von Einzbern."

"What." Huh. An Einzbern, but that…was Illya? But…Illya was…she was…

"You were acquaintances, I presume?"

"…you could say that," Shinji allowed. Still…how…why…

"Then by all means, let's have you say hello to an old friend, as opposed to gazing at her longingly from afar," Elesa teased, taking his arm and leading him over towards the two white-haired young women.

"I…I wasn't…it's not like I was looking over longingly or anything!" he protested. And he hadn't been, to be quite honest. He'd been more gobsmacked to realize that the white-haired girl, the person he'd been so cautious of back in Kyoto, had been Illya, who he'd danced with / held in his arms just a year before.

It was just…she looked so _different_. So…mature. So…

'_Sexy…' _a part of his mind supplied before he ruthlessly quashed it.

He didn't have much time to do anything else, however, as Elesa had come to a halt, leaving him in front of two white-haired visions of loveliness.

"Vice Director, I do believe you are familiar with Commander Matou," Elesa was saying, with Shinji stepping forward as if on cue, holding out his hand.

"Vice Director, it is a pleasure to—oof!"

Surprisingly, Illya, rather than shake his hand, decided to step forward and all but glomp him instead, knocking the wind out of him as well as all the thoughts in his head (and nearly knocking the drink out of his hand, for that matter, save that Elesa gently took it from him).

"Hey," he said softly, his voice a bit muffled, as with her being taller now he only came up to her chest. Well, a little taller, but it was a sizable chest nonetheless.

"Hey yourself," Illyasviel replied, her voice somewhat shaky, yet tender all at once. "You've grown a bit."

"Speak for yourself," the boy answered, though he couldn't keep a smile from his face at the sight of her and the sound of her voice, different yet…recognizable. "I…you're here."

"You too," Illya responded, looking down and smiling as their gazes met. But then she winced. "I…I hope my family…my former family hasn't—"

"They wiped out my former family, but you know I felt about them, so…no harm done," the boy said with something like a laugh, though there was a hint of pain in it even so. "It's not like being a wanted man is anything new these days."

"Mashu said you would be here, but I…"

"…I wasn't sure what to expect," Shinji filled in, with the girl's red eyes lighting up as he finished her sentence. "I…I guessed we missed other at Christmas?"

"…yeah. I wanted to see you, but…I didn't know what you would think, so I came to Kyoto and…hoped, I guess."

"Ah," Shinji uttered, wincing at how suspicious he'd been of 'Chloe Ainsworth.' "I wish I'd known. I…I'd wondered if that was you or…" He shook his head. "But with the Einzbern hunting me…"

"You couldn't risk it," Illya supplied, looking a bit downcast. "I know. I'm sorry that because of me—"

"Don't be sorry," the boy said, letting his arms come up so he could embrace _her_, something that surprised the Vice Director. "I made my choice because I wanted you to be happy. Because you deserve to be happy." He paused. "You are…right?"

"…I am," Illya replied, sounding rather choked up as she hugged him tighter. "Thank you. Thank you so much…I…"

"I'm glad, you know," the boy murmured, with the rest of the world having fallen away in that moment, so that all that existed was the woman in his arms. "Not glad I'm a wanted man, but if I had to do it again, I would, in a heartbeat, because your happiness is what matters to me. Not…all _that_."

"I—"

"It was even…fun at times, for some moments, anyway," the boy reflected with a sigh. "I even got to use that one line."

"That one line?" Illya echoed.

"Oh you know the one. '_Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated_.'"

Illya, the Vice Director of Atlas, burst out laughing at that remark, a sound that was unrestrained and utterly free, something utterly unexpected from her, with Shinji joining in even as they embraced one another tightly, as if afraid, if they let go, the other would vanish.

The call for everyone to come to the table came after that, with Illya taking his hand and insisting that he sit with her and Mashu – something he'd intended anyway, with a few knowing looks and whispers from the room at the unsubtle display of affection between the two of them.

Shinji didn't end up having much to contribute to the general conversation at the dinner, except to mention when questioned by the goblins that he found the Americans trustworthy and generous, to reply to a representative from the Edelfelts (the surprise guests Lockhart had been waiting for) that yes, even if Albion was a nation composed primarily of practitioners of witchcraft, there was certainly a place for magi – why one of the people in his squad – Tohsaka Rin – was a magus, to praise the kindness and skill of those who worked with him when Aoko asked how he managed to survive on the island, and to lead a toast in honor of pleasant reunions and the promise of a better tomorrow.

He didn't remember much of it, either, save that afterwards, Kaiduka mentioned that the Fujou family would like to visit him, with the boy mentioning that he would love to host Shiroe and his family for dinner, and setting a day for the meeting.

Well, and that at the end of a post-dinner outing with Illya, when he dropped her off at the airport following a long, leisurely walk around London and some bit of reminiscing, she whispered in his ear that she was looking forward to having him join her at Atlas – perhaps in the summer, before kissing him goodnight.

Kissing him on the cheek, mind you, but one wouldn't know it from the great, goofy smile on his face, as if everything, for once, was right with the world.

'_I guess I have something to look forward to this summer,'_ he thought, his spirits buoyant as he looked ahead to the prospect of more time with Illya – and to dinner with Fujou Shiroe and his family. It had been a while since he'd last seen them – a small eternity, really – and he was very excited to be able to show them his home, as they had welcomed him in theirs. True, there was a sudden stab of worry when he thought of hosting them, given that Tohsaka could sometimes do unexpected things, but…he figured he was worrying too much. Tohsaka was learning – slowly – but learning, and it wasn't as if she would offend the sacred rites of hospitality, right?

…wrong.

* * *

Shinji's reunion with Fujou Shiroe and family, the night before his mission was to begin, started off well enough, with the boy (and Mashu, standing beside him) greeting Shiroe, his cousin Kohaku, and his fiancée Tsuji Miyuki as they came through the Vanishing Cabinet linked with Japan.

"This is your study?" Shiroe asked, looking around the room he'd ended up in, finding his eyes drawn to the rather fancy desk.

"It is. It is where I contemplate texts, do my writing, and all sorts of other things," Shinji replied with a rakish grin. "On this desk, made from the timbers of the Golden Hind."

"Sir Francis Drake's ship?" Tsuji Miyuki questioned, raising an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware there were any such pieces of furniture."

"I wasn't either, until the goblins told me of it," he admitted freely. "I owe them much."

"You were a friend of the goblins?" Kohaku questioned, her golden eyes taking in everything, as two tails waved lazily behind her. "Before the rise of Albion, I mean."

"I…" the boy smiled politely. "Is there a reason you're fused, Kohaku-san?"

"My familiar wanted to see Britain, but since she's prone to mischief, I thought it best we come fused, so we didn't break anything. We are guests, after all, Shinji-san," Kohaku noted.

Shinji nodded, accepting the explanation.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Mashu Kyrielight, a close associate of mine, who has been helping me in many ways for…years now."

"Ah, one of your mentors from Atlas," Kohaku noted, with Shinji staring in surprise at her statement. "Sajyou-senpai mentioned her from the dinner you were both at, as did Kaiduka-dono."

"…this is true, though I would thank you not to mention that fact to Tohsaka," Shinji requested solemnly. "Also, ah, you know Lord Kaiduka personally?"

"He mentioned that you asked for help with something – I believe you needed a teacher?" Kohaku questioned, her tails twitching about curiously…wait, and were those _cat ears?!_

Shinji hastily quashed a sudden urge to pet the cat-eared girl, with his mind fixing on something she'd said.

"A teacher…" he repeated. "You're here to help me with—"

"Fufu, I have some…experience at managing different aspects of a person's nature or personality," the cat-eared girl replied.

"Ah well, yes, that I _could_ use some help with," the boy admitted quietly. "You'll be staying in Britain for a time then?"

"If it is no trouble, Shinji-san," the girl replied, with a deferential nod. "I will also be the unofficial ambassador from Japan to Albion, so it would be convenient."

Shinji blinked.

"Is Japan recognizing Albion then?" he asked. He remembered from the dinner that Kaiduka had expressed a desire for Japan to remain neutral in the conflict, so…

"Not officially," came the apologetic reply. "Unlike the Americans, our nation thrives from being a neutral trade hub, so it is better for us not to give diplomatic recognition to either side in the conflict."

"Well, understandable. The needs of the many and all," Shinji allowed. "Mashu and I will find you a room after dinner."

"Not Tohsaka-san?" Kohaku questioned delicately. "I thought she lived here as well?"

"Rin is merely a long-term _guest_," the boy said in long-suffering tones. "It wouldn't be right for a _guest_ to be given the responsibilities of the owner."

"So then, why Mashu?" Shiroe questioned.

"Because I owe her my life – and sanity – several times over, and she as much right to call this place home as I do," Shinji noted, with Shiroe looking surprised and Miyuki raising an eyebrow. "I trust her implicitly."

"I…see," the heir of the Fujou clan noted, blinking. "Well, your household is yours to manage, I suppose, and each of us have our own…preferences." He smiled slightly. "Anyway, you didn't meet Miyuki back at Hogwarts?"

Shinji raised an eyebrow.

"You went to Hogwarts?" he asked.

"I did. You don't remember me, Stone Cutter?" Miyuki asked in a husky contralto.

"I don't, actually, but there are plenty of people I don't recognize, I'm sure," the boy responded diplomatically. "Those I didn't meet for one - people in other houses and other years, for example. After all, had we met, I'm sure I would have remembered a face as lovely as yours."

Shiroe coughed.

"I wonder," she noted. "For your information, I was a Hufflepuff, and I left after your first year, so it isn't surprising that you do not know me."

"Ah, I see. You had things to take care of in Japan, I trust?"

"Yes – the family business, as it were," Miyuki responded. "I've certainly heard stories of the strange happenings in Hogwarts since I left, with the Stone Cutters in the middle of much of that business. The Tri-Wizard and Potions Competitions had some interesting press surrounding them, certainly. As someone who was involved in the thick of it, what do you have to say about it?"

"Honestly, it was a blur. And I'm…I'm still figuring out the fallout of it all," he noted, admitting for once that he didn't have all the answers. "Should we go downstairs? I'm told Tohsaka is familiar with all of you, so it would be good for her to see some friendly faces. She's been working hard as a soldier of Albion, after all."

"Oh? A soldier, at her age?"

"Well…we must all do our part," Shinji replied. "I mean, I'm an officer in Albion's Home Guard, so…" He shrugged. "So it goes, I suppose."

"I gather there is a reason you are doing this?"

"Yeah. I guess I'm working for Albion because I think Magical Britain and its citizens - all of its citizens - deserve better than the tyranny of the Ministry," he stated, his eyes burning as he thought about how it simply abandoned London to burn. "I have a debt to this country, this place which showed me I could be so much more than what my family thought I was, that offered me possibilities when no one else was willing to."

"Duty and desire for justice," Miyuki murmured approvingly. "I can respect those motives." She paused. "I doubt you are completely altruistic, however, so I assume there's something you stand to gain."

"Well…becoming a better leader and learning more about what I'm capable of when push comes to shove," the boy replied.

"We've seen a bit of that, I think," Shiroe interjected. "I remember the reports from the Potions Championship. Something about you somehow destroying a good part of the island and slaying two older Champions?"

"…I did what I had to do," Shinji stated bluntly. "That is all."

The group headed downstairs after that, with the conversation turning to a somewhat lighter note, as Shinji described how he'd had to negotiate for the house through letters, and how Sirius Black had assumed that he was some noble playboy acquiring a property for his mistress, only to be surprised that the actual buyer was a schoolboy when the day came to hand over the deed.

He couldn't understand why Shiroe and Miyuki glanced at each other knowingly at that remark, but supposed it reminded them of something funny from their own experience.

He told them of the story of the various bits of furniture he'd collected, the designs he'd gone over to ensure everything looked good, and…everything, with Shiroe at least seemingly mildly impressed by the lengths his friend had gone through to ensure this was a good place.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you _did_ buy this place for Tohsaka, did you not?" Shiroe questioned, with Shinji snorting.

"I allowed her to live in the house, yes, but I suppose I wanted something I could call home, a place that was mine, and mine alone, not something from my family," Shinji said after a minute. "Shall we continue?"

He led them around, showing them the rooms – even the bathrooms – though somewhere along the way, Mashu and Kohaku had split off to go to the kitchens to check on the food, as it would be a poor dinner without enough in the way of vittles for everyone.

During this time, Rin came back from a long day of training, with Shinji pulling her into the group to talk about herself a bit, as well as asking the Fujous how Tohsaka had been while in Japan. Miyuki, in particular, seemed curious about Rin, and was interested in discussing her situation in more detail, so Shinji offered to leave the two to talk, while he and Shiroe did a bit of sparring for old time's sake.

"I mean, who knows, maybe I can beat you these days," he said impishly.

"Well, I suppose a bit of light sparring couldn't hurt," Shiroe agreed.

With Rin entrusted with entertaining Miyuki, the boy thought it would be fine to go to the basement and spar for a bit, since very little could go wrong within the confines of his house. There was quite an extensive set of defenses within, the alcohol had (mostly) been cleared out, and it wasn't as if Rin could access anything dangerous, like his quarters or the special items within – only he, Luna, and Mashu currently had access to those.

So the two headed down to the basement, which had been set up as a training area that...well, he honestly hadn't gotten a chance to use that much, which was a pity, given how much he'd paid for it.

"Been a while, huh?" Shiroe noted, looking around at the solid stone of their surroundings, his nostrils flaring slightly as he took a whiff. "Some very solid boundaries worked into the stone," he observed. "Aozaki-san's work?"

"Yes, actually," Shinji confirmed with a lopsided smile. "I didn't realize you knew her. You...ah, haven't made any deals with her, have you?"

"None with her," the Fujou heir said quietly. "Though I am of course, familiar with Perverell-san, whose dueling seminars are very widely attended." Shiroe chuckled. "I may have been asked to take part once or twice."

"Who won?" Shinji asked dryly. In his experience, Tomas had been a hell of a fighter, especially for someone who was limited to using wandcraft abilities. "And he is teaching dueling seminars these days?"

"In part," the redhead replied. "He also has a project in Britain he is working on. Something about training Albion's army?"

Shinji twitched.

"Yes, he calls himself the Wizard-Marshal," the boy who was part of the Albion Home Guard noted sourly. "Or maybe someone else came up with the name and he liked it."

Shiroe frowned.

"You mentioned the army yourself before, but something confuses me. You represented the government of Britain in an international championship, and now you have joined a faction in rebelling against it? That...sounds a little disloyal, Matou."

Shinji winced.

"I...I wouldn't put it that way," he said delicately. "_They_ betrayed me first, honestly."

"They did?"

Was Shinji hearing things, or was Shiroe somewhat skeptical?

"They...they didn't like foreigners. Still don't. They used me for what I could do, and afterwards, demanded that I swear allegiance to them for the support they'd given me, or else they would execute me for treason."

"W...Matou, you're not even a British citizen. How can they charge you with treason?!"

"That's what I said!" Shinji echoed indignantly. He took a breath, shaking his head. "Look, long story short, while they had me making this choice, London was attacked. And I...I volunteered to hold the line and buy time for them to escape if they would pardon me of any so-called crimes they'd charged me with."

"Hold the line...?" Shiroe repeated thoughtfully. "You mean...alone?"

"I mean, who else could they ask to do something that stupid?" the dark-haired boy questioned with a hollow laugh. "Their army was at Hogwarts, and would have been ripped to pieces against the foes I faced. Their aurors – there were a handful. What could they have done?"

"You say that, and yet you fought an army. Alone."

"...ok, look, maybe that wasn't the smartest idea," Shinji admitted, scratching the back of his head. "Still, being an ally of justice means doing what is right, not what is easy. Or what is smart." He sighed. "I swore a vow that I'd hold that army off or die trying."

"Well, you're alive, so..." Shinji's response was to raise his arm and shift his skin to scales, then to solid stone, a demonstration which quickly shut the Fujou boy up. "...Matou. What did you do?"

"It's a funny thing, Shiroe," the boy grunted, letting his arm fall as his stone became flesh, and scales reverted to skin once more. "To no longer be the person you were. To have everything burned away."

Fujou Shiroe flinched at those words, taking a step back.

"Matou...you..."

"Yeah," the boy said with a brittle smile. "I'm like you, I guess. Only I didn't forget who I was completely."

"...just in part?"

"Yeah, though I don't remember what parts, because...yeah. Just that I'm not who I was," Shinji remarked. "The old Matou wasn't exactly part reptile."

"Part reptile, huh?"

"Well, part-dragon," Shinji admitted, his features taking on a grim mask. "Which changes my personality too. Makes me more prone to anger. More greedy. More...well, like a dragon, I guess."

"An eastern dragon or a western?" Shiroe asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Western. More fire and blood than water and compassion."

"Heh. Being fair, that always described your _shiroi koibito_ more than you," the Fujou heir joked, smiling for a moment before his expression went neutral once more. "...does she know?" he asked quietly.

"She?"

"You know who I mean," Shiroe said, more seriously. "Did you tell her?"

"That I'm different than I was, yes. That I'm pretty much a different person...no," Shinji admitted, looking down. "I'm...I'm afraid. She...she walked away from me after I told her some of it. If she knew all of it...I..." He seemed uncertain, almost...lost. "I'm worried she'll throw me away, like everyone else who knows how flawed I am has."

"..._I_ haven't, Matou."

"No, but you don't know half the terrible things I've done, either," the boy who called himself Matou Shinji stated. "I'm not the person you think I am. The good person. The noble person. I'm..." He smiled wanly. "I'm kind of a monster, honestly."

"Well, you're not the first person I know who thinks of themselves that way," Shiroe said after a moment. "And I don't think less of any of the others for how they see themselves."

"I'm not?" Shinji uttered, blinking. "Really? You? The vaunted heir of the Fujou family? You're surrounded by those kinds of people?"

"Heh...I guess I always have been," Shiroe observed with something of a lopsided smile. "But then, they say the higher up you rise, the odder your company becomes, after all."

"They?" Shinji repeated, trying to place where that expression came from, but not coming up with anything. "You just made that up!"

"I did," Shiroe admitted freely. "But is it any less true, if I'm saying it and not some centuries old philosopher?"

"...no. No, it isn't," the boy who called himself Matou Shinji conceded. "...I guess I should tell her then, shouldn't I?"

"Yes. I think she'll understand," the Fujou heir said, with Shinji taking a deep breath, inhaling, exhaling, and finally nodding.

"Well, I'll trust you on that one."

"I trusted you some years ago, and you gave me my life back - only fair that I return the favor, right?"

"Right."

The two boys nodded to one another, and were about to square off for a friendly spar when the door opened, with the elegant figure of Tsuji Miyuki making her way gracefully down the stairs, her deliberate pace seeming almost like of a very dangerous predator.

A somewhat flustered Rin trailed after her, trying to say one thing or another, only to be ignored as Shiroe's fiancée made her way down to the basement where the two were.

"Shiroe. Matou-kun."

"Tsuji-san," Shinji replied with a slight bow. "I thought Tohsaka would be entertaining you. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Matou-kun, you invited Shiroe to join you for a spar, did you not?"

"I...did, but what's this about?"

"Would it trouble you to make the spar 2 against 2?"

Shinji couldn't help but notice Fujou Shiroe wince and glance at Rin, even as he wondered just what Tohsaka had done wrong to offend the older girl, as it seemed that Tsuji-san wanted an excuse to face Tohsaka in battle without the complications of a formal duel.

_'...clever.'_

"Could I have a moment of privacy, please?" Shinji requested, with Tsuji Miyuki agreeing to it. The boy took the time to cast muffliato, as he pulled Rin to him, so that the others wouldn't overhear them.

"What happened?"

"I-I don't know," Tohsaka said, rather flustered. "We were talking about my time with the Fujous, and how Fujou Kohaku-san cut my curses out of the air without even using reinforcement. I said it was unnatural, like a monster out of legend - and then Tsuji-san excused herself for a word with you and came here. I-I tried to call after her, but she just kept walking. What-what did I do?"

"...did you call Fujou Kohaku a monster?"

"Not...exactly," Rin temporized. "Just that what she could do was...monstrous and unnatural. Just like the abilities of the person training her - Asa Drake."

Now it was Shinji's turn to wince.

"Did she say anything else to you?" he demanded, his voice perhaps a bit harsh. These...the Fujous were his guests and his long-time friends. If Tohsaka had offended them...

Rin cringed, stepping back from seeing even a whisper of Shinji's wrath directed at her.

"I...she said...she said something terrible."

"Out with it!" he snapped.

"'That you were so easily beaten does not mean your opponents were monsters,'" Rin recited, her voice and body trembling. "It..." she swallowed, her shaking growing even more intense. "'It means that you are weak. By claiming that your opponent was a monster, you are merely absolving yourself of responsibility for your defeat. A person like that...no matter how strong you may be, or what potential you hold, if you cling to that mindset, you will surely die.'" Tohsaka Rin swallowed. "That's all."

"...and then what happened?"

"...I uh...I might have pointed my finger at her. With my crest...um...glowing."

At that moment, the boy who called himself Matou Shinji wanted nothing more than to bury his head in his hands. Tohsaka...he'd trusted her not to do anything foolish, and in the span of what, fifteen minutes, she'd nearly attacked a member of a noble house that he was guesting?

"...did you use a spell?" the boy hissed at her, as Tohsaka Rin flinched from the sheer depths of rage rising in his eyes.

"N-no, I...I wouldn't-"

"That's...something," the boy groused. "Not a hell of a lot, but something. Which I guess brings us to now, unless there's anything else you're leaving out?"

"N-no. There's nothing."

"If I find out there is..."

"T-there isn't. Matou, I-"

But the boy who called himself Matou Shinji turned away, as he waved a hand and dismissed the muffliato. He took a moment to calm himself, breathing in, counting to twenty, pushing back his impulse to just spank Tohsaka until she screamed or begged for forgiveness, or to have Lockhart come up with a special scenario for her, because he wasn't alone. He had guests, including one who was something of a brother to him, and one that Tohsaka had gravely offended - even threatened, something that would have been grounds for justifiable homicide among magi.

"Have you come to a decision?" Tsuji Miyuki inquired mildly. Or at least, her expression seemed mild - except for her odd amber eyes, the same color as Kohaku's, sharp and intelligent and piercing.

"Given the circumstances, I will have to decline the proposal," Shinji stated tersely, locking eyes with Tsuji Miyuki, his eyes no longer grey, but golden and slitted, like that of a great wyrm. "After all, as enjoyable as I'm sure it would be to test my skills against you, this is about something else, isn't it?" he asked, rather clinically. "Tohsaka did something terrible, and there are reparations to be made. This is what it this offer is really about, isn't it?"

The older girl looked at the boy evenly, holding his gaze in a way he found most disconcerting.

"Then you are formally acknowledging that your representative and ally has committed an offense against not just myself as a person, but the Fujous as a whole, and you are now seeking to make restitution?" she inquired, to which Shinji blinked.

"Wait. What?" he asked, his expression freezing as the words sank in. "I am now seeking to make restitution?" How...and why would it come to that when Tohsaka had been the one who had committed the offense. "Shiroe, help me understand this," Shinji said, turning to his old friend, who looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "Why me, not her?"

"Because you requested that we should treat her as if she were you, with all the implications thereof," Shiroe responded gravely.

"I..." Wait. He had said that, hadn't he? "But...that..."

"Perhaps that is not what you meant, but it is what you said," Shiroe added, not seeming very happy about this. "In addition, you never stated that this status should be rescinded. Thus, what Tohsaka has done is something you are responsible for."

"And if I were to rescind it now?"

"Such empty protests would do no good, when the evidence speaks for itself," Tsuji Miyuki interjected coldly. "Tohsaka Rin lives in your house, is trusted to serve as your representative, is being sheltered from harm by you. Words now, mean nothing."

"...what do you want then?" the boy asked.

"It is not what I want, not anymore - but what you want to give up so that honor will be satisfied," Tsuji Miyuki stated.

"Honor? But...this – it's a private matter, not one where honor comes into play. Can't we handle this quietly?"

"No. You already refused to."

"What? What do you—" And then it hit him. That there had been a reason that Tsuji Miyuki had originally requested nothing more than expanding the spar, with no talk of honor or reparations on the table, and that had he simply accepted her offer, things wouldn't have come to this. At the time, he'd simply thought it had been a clever way to get around the complications of a formal duel, without realizing there was far more at stake than merely the offense of a single girl.

"You understand, I see."

He did - at least a bit. Granted, the full implications had been too subtle for him, but then Matou Shinji had all the subtlety of a raging bull. Or raging dragon, if one preferred, for where a dragon could be wise indeed, a dragon caught in the grip of rage was seldom given to wisdom and deliberation.

"How can I convince you that Tohsaka acted on her own, that she does not represent me, and that if anyone should be punished, it is her?"

"By making it clear through your actions that this is the case?"

What does Shinji do next?

Matou Shinji never really liked having to choose between two options someone provided him. In his view, such a thing was essentially agreeing to a loss of agency, as his "choice" would merely be which of the two alternatives that had been laid out he disliked less. In his thinking, there was another way - there *had* to be another way. Anything less was accepting that he was stuck in a no-win scenario.

'Hillard never accepted that,' he recalled, remembering the bravery and valor of the older boy, and he had refused to simply let someone else dictate what the outcome would be. 'So I won't either. In his memory.'

In the memory of one of his few true friends - a friend who had remained faithful to his ideals to the end, who had died as a hero and saved hundreds - perhaps thousands of lives - in his last action. And who had done so while being close to human, with only the benefit of a wand and the abilities that had lent him.

_'If he had been stronger...if I had shared the arts I knew with him...would he be alive today?' _he sometimes wondered. _'At the very least, it would have been a better use of my time than wasting it on that filthy coward and traitor named Potter, who turned his back on his oldest friend.' The wretch had even dared to blacken his name with that Cornerstones trash - even signing off on the changes that made his look like a coward and Dark Lord in training._

And for what? Because Potter wanted praise and adulation? Because he enjoyed Greengrass' tender embraces, and so placed her interests above those of his allies?

Foolish.

If Potter had truly been a hero, the Boy-Who-Lived would have fought by his side at the Battle of the Ministry, instead of holing up in Hogsmeade with his army, while he had done what was necessary to preserve thousands of British lives, had stood alone against an entire army - and won.

_'The Ministry would have been fine with my death, as long as I bought them some time. Potter would have been fine with my death, so long as it spared him his.'_

Matou Shinji found that he could not respect such a coward, finding himself disgusted that he ever had.

_'If it comes to it, I will kill him with my own hands for the insult he has offered me - for so slighting my honor, and for throwing away our friendship for the sake of such empty honors!'_

...but, it was not Harry Potter who stood before him now, and so he had to focus on the present. Specifically on the mess precipitated by the betrayal Tohsaka Rin had visited on him by threatening Tsuji Miyuki - the fiancée of Fujou Shiroe - one of his closest allies, and the reparations that Tsuji was now demanding.

Or at least, the choice she was offering him, a choice which boiled down to whether he would step aside and let Tohsaka be punished, or whether he would take responsibility for her actions.

Frankly, there was a part of him that just wanted to wash his hands of Tohsaka Rin, given she had repaid his gifts with ungratefulness, his restraint with poor self-control, and his attempts to help her with...dishonor. That part - that very persuasive part, in light of all this, was very much in favor of tossing her out of his house, stripping her of everything she owned, and leaving her entirely to the (not-so) tender mercies of the Fujous.

Yet another part of him argued that since she belonged to him, that he effectively owned her, it would only be right for him to take responsibility for the girl, since who else could he blame for the actions of the little fool? If an item in someone's house caused a guest injury, one would not blame the item, but the owner. Likewise, if something one had grown, like a vegetable, was beginning to rot, it was one's responsibility to toss it out or dump it into the compost bin, not someone else's.

Still, just going with one wasn't completely satisfactory - and he had the thought that it wouldn't please Tsuji Miyuki either.

_'Perhaps I should just act as her Champion and eviscerate Tohsaka, or at least show her the full Wrath of a Dragon?'_

...no, that wouldn't work. Such a thing would be too quick, too unsatisfying. It wouldn't cause the little fool nearly enough pain to make up for the offense she had committed against him, wouldn't give him much of an opportunity to enjoy punishing her, as he suspected she would either die in seconds or simply surrender without a fight, her mind broken from having face him in all his glory.

No, that wouldn't be fun at all.

"Have you decided what you will do?" Miyuki interjected, with the boy considering her evenly. He recognized a fellow monster when he saw one, and knew that for all that she was human, she would not break nearly so easily as Rin. 'Hm. Well, she would be good breeding stock, I suppose. I approve of her marrying Shiroe. She has nerve standing up to a dragon.'

"I have," Shinji stated, turning his hellish gaze upon Tohsaka, who found herself taking a step back at the sheer fury in his eyes. "With the Fujous as my witnesses, I am stripping you of the privileges that I so generously gave you because I considered you a friend. You are no longer welcome in my home unconditionally, nor will you partake of the bounty of my table without permission, or without cost. From today forward, you are a tenant and no more. If you wish to eat, you may buy your own food, cook your own meals, wash your own dishes - or pay a suitable price. You will pay rent, either in service, or in the funds I have so graciously spared you from spending."

"I...that..." Rin could only stare at horror as his...monster wearing Shinji's face dictated such terms to her. "I..."

"I do not permit you the freedom of simply departing, however - as you are my subordinate, and I am thus responsible for you. But know this Tohsaka, you owe me a debt. One that will be repaid in full measure before we are through, lest there be blood."

"I..."

"And before you think that perhaps I will forget, that you can charm me into overlooking your many, many sins, I will bind you to obedience via a self-geas scroll. The very one you gave me, that I might enforce something of you."

Rin's eyes were wide with terror as the dragon advanced on her, coming to a halt just in front of her, his claws touching her cheek and making her shudder.

"_Accio_ self-geas scroll," he intoned, and after some seconds, in which there was bit of banging and whirring, the scroll came flying to his hand. "Ah, there we are. Now, to write down the terms..."

Lacking a pen, he simply used his claws to draw blood from the girl - just a little bit, using that as the ink he needed to scrawl out what he had said, even as Tohsaka whimpered.

"Now...sign!" he ordered her, placing the scroll on the floor before her.

"I - I can't reach..."

"Get on your knees then, foolish girl."

She did, shaking all the while, only to realize something important.

"I...I don't have a pen...?"

The boy sighed, reaching out his hand as a pen came flying into it.

"You have much to learn before you can even dream of fighting by my side, Tohsaka Rin," he uttered, as he handed her the implement. "Now sign."

And so, she did.

"Excellent," he intoned, retrieving the scroll with a wordless Accio. "As you have shown...wisdom, this one time, I suppose I can take whatever punishment is meant for you this one time." He smiled slightly. "Oh, just so you know, I will be giving your old room to Fujou Kohaku, who you will be assisting. I am certain she can find ways to keep you out of trouble."

With that though, it was his turn to make amends, as he turned back to Miyuki, handing her the self-geas scroll that Tohsaka Rin had filled out.

"You have witnessed my demonstration. Is there anything further I must pay?"

"Nothing lasting or damaging to body or soul," Miyuki stated simply. "The price I would have demanded of Tohsaka Rin is for you to remove every hair from her body."

"A woman's hair being her life."

"Yes. But as you have chosen the punishment instead, I suppose she will have to remove every hair on yours. With a razor, not with the arcane arts."

Shinji frowned, as he could already picture this in his mind's eye. He pictured the outcome in his mind, the nicks and scratches that would result from her unskilled ministrations, though, worse than the pain...

"...I will accept that," he resolved, gritting his teeth. "On one condition."

"Yes?"

"Would it be fair if I were to simply cast a hair-loss charm on myself to deal with the hair ah...down there? Tohsaka may shave my torso, limbs, and head, but given her poor self-control, I don't want her anywhere near my most sensitive organs."

"Fair," Miyuki conceded. "That is acceptable."

"Well, as much as of a delight as this has been," Shiroe interjected. "Perhaps this shaving business could wait until after dinner? Every man deserves a last supper, after all."

"...very funny, Shiroe," Shinji drawled, though one corner of his mouth did tug upwards ever so slightly.

"One tries."


	13. Unknown Unknowns

_**Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory**_

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.

* * *

**Chapter 13. **_Unknown Unknowns_

Matou Shinji sat in the darkness of his room, enjoying a last few moments by himself –_ as _himself, before he slipped once again into the persona he would be using for the next month or so: Nines, derived from the Latin _non esse _(not-being).

'_It's a little like using _Nobody_ as a nom de guerre,' _he mused, his lips twitching upwards slightly as he remembered the tale of Odysseus, the cleverest of the heroes of old (as least in his opinion). _'Only I'm not fighting monsters exactly.'_

No, indeed. He was a monster wearing the face of a man long dead, a boy who lived on only in habit and memory. And now he was about to hide what little remained of who he once was under a false face and name, a mask with a different past and vastly different habits, all for the sake of a mission.

Not for the first time, the boy sighed, wondering if he was doing the right thing.

'_Am I really cut out for this?' _he thought to himself. _'I've never really been much of a leader. Not really. Most of what I've done, I've done on my own. The one time I really led something before this…it went poorly.'_

That brief stint as a leader, as he recalled, had been during the mission to capture a _tanuki _who was wreaking havoc while wearing another's face and name. The very same entity who was now one of his subordinates – and if he was being honest with himself – probably the most competent and best adjusted individual on the squad, since it wasn't him, and it wasn't…his other squadmate.

'_I just have to trust that Lockhart knows what he's doing.'_

That and keep from mentioning anything that a mercenary who had only recently come to Albion wouldn't be aware of – something easier said than done, given that the boy knew he had a _bit_ of a temper.

'_I have to put aside how Matou Shinji would feel. How Matou Shinji would react. How Matou Shinji would think. In a way, it's like dying all over again – and this time, for stakes not nearly as high as when I faced the avatar of an Outer God.'_

No. Instead all he had to do was face Hermione Granger and convince her to abandon WADA for somewhere…better protected.

The thought brought an odd smile to his face, with the boy laughing softly as he shook his head. He'd always been better at destroying things than protecting them, and now he was being asked to do _this? _Well, nothing to be done but to prepare, he supposed. Soon it would be dawn, and with the start of the new day, his mission would begin.

Hilde, of course, was already out and about taking care of _her _part of the plan, and Rin…well, it wouldn't take much for her to play the part of a half-Finnish mercenary who had joined up with Albion's armed forces in the wake of the Ministry's withdrawal from London. Granted, when he'd first called her Lumi Edelfelt, he'd just been pulling a name from the top of his head, since the Edelfelts were infamous in the Moonlit World as the hyenas of the battlefield, but having actually _met_ a daughter of the Edelfelt family, he thought the ruse might actually work.

…so long as he made sure that Miss Luviagelita didn't find out about this (which he was hopeful of, as this was a low-profile operation), or at least, if she did, considered this something to laugh about as opposed to take offense to. The heavens only knew that he'd gotten into trouble for presuming on the authority of others before.

'_Sokaris warned me about my habit of doing that_, _and I'm trying to change_. I am,' he told himself. _'Really.' _Not that even he was sure if he was trying, or just trying to convince himself that he was. Either way, he had to stop distracting himself with unnecessary thoughts and _focus_. _'Right. Equipment. I needed to pick out equipment.'_

He would wear the amulet he'd requisitioned, while in the guise of Nines, of course, as anything that provided protection from mental assault and detection was rather useful when he was trying to hide who he was, but other than that...

'_Do I dare use my wand-staff?' _

Given its ability to absorb fire spells directed at him, as well as its ability to change its length and width as he wished, it was one of the most potent items in Matou Shinji's arsenal, but that was the issue. It was something in _Matou Shinji's_ arsenal – something that he'd been seen using in the past. In fact, given that his doppelganger had used it during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he was sure that quite a few people might recognize it.

He had to have a wand, or something of the sort though, so…

'_Well, there's always the Yew and Phoenix feather wand Tomas gave me…' _he mused, considering his options. He supposed it would work well enough for day to day use – even for combat, should things come to it. And it wasn't as if he had another one just laying around. _'Right. But…should I bring ofuda?' _

_Ofuda, _of course, weren't something exclusive to him – all _onmyouji_ used it to some degree or another, and he _was _taking the persona of a mercenary from the East, but despite these facts, associations in people's minds were harder to shake…

'_Maybe just good quality paper and ink, so I can make some while I'm there. I can even try folding them into odd shapes, or concealing them in different ways – ways no one has seen Matou Shinji use _ofuda_ yet.'_

Aside from that, it was only common sense to wear the underarmor that Touko had promised to make for him in exchange for one of the items he'd traded to her on the isle (since she'd finally gotten around to making it for him), his potions satchel, and the hidden blade he'd…inherited some time ago. It was always good to have a holdout weapon _just in case_, after all, even if one didn't expect trouble.

'_I just hope Rin – Lumi, rather – hasn't screwed up already. Again.'_

[hr]100%[/hr]

'_Well, things are going well so far.'_

So, Nines allowed himself to think as he gestured for the wizarding children that he'd escorted from the orphanage in Diagon Alley to board the armored limousine parked in front of The Leaky Cauldron.

"Come now, we don't have all day," he chided them, noting that a few had just stopped cold and were _staring_ at the vehicle. "It's almost like you've never seen a car before."

"I…I haven't," came a mumble, with Nines noting that the speaker had been the youngest of the bunch, a certain Grim Fawley, a nine-year old boy who was the last of his old pureblood family. Who'd lost his parents in the Battle of London because they'd taken him to Diagon Alley to watch a play.

'_Ah. Right.'_

"Hopefully it won't be the last. Either way, you'll find its more comfortable on the inside," Nines advised gently. "If you're scared, maybe Penelope can look after you for a bit?" he asked, glancing over at the girl who was the effective leader of the group of orphans, given that she was both the oldest and had the most experience with magic, having had two years of Hogwarts.

Grim nodded as Penelope took his hand and helped him board the car.

'_What am I even doing? I did well enough entertaining these children for an evening, but actually being their guardian and protector for a while? I'm not that much older than some of them, at least not in years…'_

In life experience, he might be their elder, but in terms of years? He didn't have much of an advantage there, being only 14 himself.

"Perdita, are you alright yourself?" he asked, turning his attention to the group of almost relieved looking Muggleborn…and the disguised _tanuki_ standing among them, looking the very picture of innocence, with cornflower-blue eyes and hair like spun sunshine.

…if said picture of innocence looked like Gabrielle Delacour anyway.

'_Under other circumstances I'd grumble about her impersonating someone else _once again_, but it isn't _exactly _Gabrielle's image, so I can't be certain that she's using Veela powers to make herself more likable.'_

"I'm fine, Mister Nines," the _tanuki_ replied shyly, something that made the boy suppress a _twitch_. If he hadn't already known who she was, he would never have guessed she was Hilde. "We just…" She looked round at her fellows. "We hope things will be ok after…"

'_Ah. Right. They lost their parents - and the teacher who escorted them – in the Battle of London. Even with a Calming Draught, I can see why they're nervous, though I suppose I should be glad they aren't having panic attacks.'_

"Of course, things will be ok," the boy said with a winning smile, trying to project the image of a reliable first-class mercenary. "After all, I'm here." He paused. "And so is Miss Lumi," he added after a beat, gesturing at the blonde seated inside the limousine, wearing a rather somber outfit – the very one he'd negotiated away from the Illuminati, at that. "The First Citizen himself arranged for us to watch over you."

The children looked a bit uncertain, given the stern visage – scowl, really – on "Miss Lumi's" face, with

the boy remembering belatedly that she had not had her coffee that morning.

"I know she looks a bit scary, but that's just because she's thinking about how to fight off anything that even thinks about hurting you," Nines related, mentally patting himself on the back for having come up with a justification so quickly, while also reminding himself that he needed to get "Lumi" a dose of caffeine soon.

As the children filed in, one at a time, the boy took one last look around, before getting in after them and closing the door.

"Ok, Jeeves. Let's go," he instructed, with the driver up front – the very same one who'd driven him about London many a time tipping his hat as they set off.

Not for the first time, he wished that the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts (WADA), was in Diagon Alley instead of Southbank, of all places, but reality unfortunately did not bend to his whims.

'_I don't think anyone will come after us on the drive, but one never knows.' _That was the reason for the armored (and, he suspected, magically protected) limousine that he'd ordered for transport, as the company Jeeves worked for had some experience with VIPs. That, and he figured that Jeeves, as someone used to working with rich and powerful people - be they from the Tower or elsewhere - had probably seen stranger things than a group of children coming out of a broken down bar to ride in a limo. _'Anyway, it's a bit curious that the children are being sent there, but Magical Britain never really had much of a support system for orphans.'_ Mostly, such children were sent to the closest living relative or shipped off to a Muggle institution, but after Lockhart had taken over as First Citizen, one of the first things he had done was to use his personal fortune to pay for orphanages and to subsidize the medical needs of the survivors of the Battle of London, a move that had earned him no small amount of good will. _'WADA already has dorms and facilities - and other children around.'_

Of course, it had never been the biggest or wealthiest school around, as those who attended it had generally either been purebloods with little in the way of ambition, or who strongly desired a career in the arts (despite how unlikely it was one could make something of themselves).

Still, it was set up to accommodate children, and it did have enough capacity for a few more.

For a while, it was quiet, as the children looked around the car and out at their surroundings, most of them quiet with their thoughts. Which was fine with him, really, since he really didn't know the first thing about talking to—

"Mister Nines?" young Penelope Padgett spoke up, almost as soon as the thought had crossed his mind. She was looking around the interior of the limo uneasily. This wasn't unexpected, given that magical Britain tended to emphasize magical means of transport, such as the Floo. Seated beside her, and nearly clinging to her, was Grim, whose eyes darted back and forth from the windows to the other children, from the door of the limo to Nines and Lumi, his expression haunted, his jaw tight, as if expecting something to leap out at them at any moment as their surroundings whooshed by.

"Yes, Penelope?" the boy asked, giving her his most charming smile.

"Grim was wondering how old you were," the young Slytherin said quietly. "You don't look much older than us, after all."

"When it comes to magic, my dear, looks can very much be deceiving," the boy replied – words that were entirely true, but also dodged the question entirely.

"So how old are you then?" Penelope pressed, noting the evasion.

"Older than I look," Nines answered vaguely. "Old enough to have fought monsters and demons, and for what few of my enemies yet live to call me the same."

"Demons?" Grim echoed, startled.

"Young master Fawley, you of all people should know that magic can be a pathway to abilities some find…unnatural."

"Unnatural?" Perdita echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there are few things that come to mind," Nines mentioned. "Immortality is one of them – or something close to it."

_That_ got the attention of every child in the limousine – and why would it not, when they had all had such close encounters with death? (Though not, it must be said, as close an encounter as Shinji himself had the pleasure of experiencing!)

"Immortality?" whispered Grim Fawley, his lips trembling as he spoke the word. "I…is such a thing possible?"

"Yes. That, along with techniques that can protect those one cares about from dying…"

Grim's eyes went wide.

"…what about bringing back the dead?" the young Pureblood asked, his voice shaky as his eyes looked desperately at Nines. "Can magic do that?"

Nines paused.

"…I don't know of a way, Master Fawley, but that doesn't mean there isn't one," he answered after a long moment. "I'm no Unspeakable after all. My specialty lies…elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?"

"On the battlefield."

"Ah."

"If you wish, Master Fawley, I _can_ teach you – and anyone else interested – how to mind your surroundings," Nines continued. "If you're going to be constantly looking around, I may as well teach you to be properly aware."

"I…yes, please!"

"Good. Then we'll make time to teach you, and anyone else who wishes to learn," Nines said much more confidently than he felt, as he just hoped he remembered enough from Lockhart's lessons to not make a complete mess of things.

To Nine's relief, the children mostly were quiet after that, or at least had turned to talking amongst themselves – or trying out the drinks and refreshments in the limousine's on-boardrefrigerator, for long enough for him to give Lumi the thermos of Neverending Coffee, which she accepted with a grunt.

"Thanks," she said.

"Of course."

For a moment, Lumi looked like she was going to say more, but the girl merely shook her head at Nine's inquisitive glance.

Which was how he managed to catch Malfalda Prewett's deep, almost resentful sigh.

'_Practically a growl, really.'_

Mafalda Prewett was neither new to Magical Britain nor a pureblood. She was either a half-blood or a muggleborn, depending on the definition one was using. More than uneasy, she seemed angry, her body stiff and her eyes...

"Something wrong?" Nines asked, turning to the girl, who was seated beside him.

"Thinking about my parents," Mafalda muttered stiffly, a statement that made more than one of the children flinch. "They'd come to visit, when..." Her words trailed off as her words balled into fists. "A thousand curses on the Ministry's cowardice, and on the so-called _hero_ who let them run away."

Nines blinked at the sheer amount of venom in the girl's voice when she said the word _hero_.

"You would curse the Ministry and the one who saved its people, not those that did the killing?" he asked curiously.

"The Minister promised that something like this would never happen, not after the Quidditch Cup Incident," the girl bit out. "He promised and promised, took and took, and then when we needed him most, what did he do? He _ran_, like a bloody coward."

"Mafalda—" the eldest of the children tried to interject, but it was to no avail.

"Don't 'Mafalda' me, Penelope," the half-blood growled. "If the Minister had fought like he promised he would instead of turning his tail and abandoning all of us, my parents would still be alive. Yours would be too. All of ours. If that Matou Shinji was such a _hero, _heshould have killed the coward where he stood, not let him sod off to Hogsmeade while my pa and mum were splattered by bloody giants."

Nines' jaw tightened as his mind's eye imagined the carnage giants could cause at...a charms school?

"Killed one, too," the girl said with no small amount of satisfaction. "And one of those corpse bastards. The rest though..."

_'Wait. Prewett...isn't her mother a muggle, and her father a Squib?'_

"Your parents - how did they...?"

"Shot them, how else?" Mafalda replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Muggle doesn't meant helpless, you know."

Nines nodded.

"No, no it doesn't," the boy affirmed. "I know that much very well. But at the same time, magical doesn't mean powerful, either. Not the way you mean, at least."

"That's true," Mafalda admitted. "But what about you? You're a soldier—"

"—mercenary—"

"—mercenary," the girl corrected. "Have you fought giants? Ghouls? Dark wizards?"

"Yes," Nines responded. "I have. And worse besides."

"...huh. And you didn't run."

"No. I didn't."

"Why?" she asked, almost demanded, really. "What did you have that the Ministry…that the Minister lacked? Why could someone as _frail_ as you fight – and live – while they _ran away_?"

"Why do I fight? Because I gave my word. And for someone like me, my word is everything," Nines responded. "Even if I am asked to do the impossible, even if I am asked to face the very gods themselves, I will – or I'll die trying." He shook his head. "Why am I alive? Because on top of being good at what I do, I had good allies, good instincts, and good fortune."

"And what about the one who let the cowards get away? Who let them run when so many didn't have the chance?" Mafalda pressed. "That Matou Shinji – what was he? They say he fought off the army that attacked the Ministry by himself, covering the escape of everyone who worked there. If he was that good, why did he just let them…"

Her words trailed off as her hands balled into ineffectual fists.

"You have to understand that I never met the man," Nines replied candidly. "I've been working for the First Citizen, and they say he's been in the hospital in serious condition. Still, I'm certain he had his own circumstances. He's not much older than you, you know?"

Unsurprisingly, such an answer didn't entirely satisfy the girl.

"He had his own circumstances, huh?" the girl muttered. "I bet the high and mighty Potions Champion of Britain never lost anything important in his life, seeing as how he seemed to have so much just..._handed_ to him."

"...handed to him?" Nines echoed, and if his voice was a bit harder than usual, if his expression seemed to be slipping, well…there was a reason for it. "What do you mean, Miss Prewett?"

"I've read about him," the girl replied, sounding entirely too much like a certain bushy-haired brunette from his past (at least, in her worst moments). "Born into a long lineage of practitioners – already a master of the eastern arts by the time he came to Hogwarts. Best friend of the Boy-Who-Lived, like the shadow to Potter's light. Instructed by Slughorn, mentored by the greatest adventurer of Britain. And yet, never there when people needed him."

"What do you mean?"

"He wasn't at the Cup, was he? Or rather – he was, but in the company of a pretty girl from Japan. He came with her – and he left with her, leaving the rest of Britain to fend for itself."

"Now, leaving with one's date is just good manners," Nines commented, feeling his smile become somewhat strained, even as he felt Lumi's eyes boring into the side of his skull. "That is, if it was a date," he amended. "Besides, I think you're being unfair, given that he had no way of knowing that the attack was coming. A man can enjoy his holiday as he wishes, you know?"

"Well…uh, what about him siding with Delacour because she was pretty?" Mafalda demanded.

"Was it because she was pretty, or were there other circumstances at play?"

"How would I know?"

"That's right. How would you know?" Nines echoed, not unkindly. "You weren't there."

"No. I wasn't," Mafalda conceded bitterly. "I _was _in London though. When he let the Minister and the band of cowards in the Ministry escape. When he didn't make the coward do what he promised. When he _let my parents die._ What did the Minister hand him, I wonder, that he decided to let them escape? A kiss from their metamorphmagus, perhaps? More? They do say he's a sucker for a pretty face."

Nines took a deep breath, clenching his jaw tightly to keep himself from saying the first thing that came to mind: that she knew nothing of his circumstances

He also fought back the urge to defend his actions as Matou Shinji, since as he himself had noted, Nines couldn't really judge.

"Well, the media certainly wants people to believe that about Mr. Matou," Nines said eventually. "I wouldn't be so quick to judge myself, since again, I haven't met the man, and I wasn't there. Just as you weren't in the Ministry when Mr. Matou made his choice. I often find that there is more going on than what is reported in the papers, or that we can guess from our limited perspectives. At least, that's been true for every battle I've ever been in."

Mafalda listened to what Nines has to say before shrugging.

"You say clever words," the girl admitted grudgingly. "Still, it doesn't change the fact that he protected cowards as they fled, letting those they swore to protect die." She sniffed. "I wonder what he would think of himself, if he knew the price so many paid so he could enjoy being called a hero. But I imagine he won't. Why would a high and mighty Champion and Hero ever see fit to meet those he'd hurt, or consider he might be wrong?"

She went silent after that, shaking her head, and would have turned to look out the window when—

"That's not true!" Lumi spoke up, her eyes flashing as she glared at this, her expression indignant. "Matou-kun is—"

"Not someone we know, really," Nines cut in, before his _squadmate_ could completely blow their cover. "And from my experience, Miss Prewett, no one who is called a Hero ever really seeks the title – nor enjoys being called so, really. Like I said, I've never met the man, even if I've read – and heard – a good deal about him." He shrugged. "He's not why I'm here though. I'm here to keep you safe."

"You've said that before," Mafalda said challengingly. "But what do you think you'll need to keep us safe _from?_"

"Oh, all sorts of things," Nine said in reply. "Youthful overconfidence. Bullies. Yourselves. Oh, and the people who came after your families, in case there are any stragglers, though I expect the goblins on site have done a good job securing the area."

"Goblins, eh?" Penelope murmured.

"Mhm. You've met some before?" Nines questioned.

"A few," Penelope replied. "I saw them a lot around the alley when I was helping with getting food. Nice enough folk, even if they look a bit odd."

"I've seen some," Mafalda volunteered. "I saw them kill the giants who attacked my school. They fought and died for us. They avenged my parents, when no one else could or would, and for that I'll be forever grateful."

"I wonder if they'll teach us how to fight," Penelope murmured aloud, with some of the other children perking up at her words.

"In an ideal world, you wouldn't have to, but…they probably will, if you prove you really want to learn," Nines noted. "Just be careful," he warned, shaking his head. "They're not exactly _understanding_ if you can't keep up."

"...you know this...?"

"From experience."

There were no more questions after that, no more fuss, no more incidents, with the rest of the ride being conducted in silence.

* * *

When they finally arrived, Nines helped the group disembark and led them to the entrance of WADA, where they were welcomed by none other than an elegantly dressed Hermione Granger, together with a smartly dressed detachment of goblins.

It is all the boy can do not to react, but somehow he managed, nodding to her, before turning to Mudbutton, the Goblin Spectre in charge of WADA, and snapping off a sharp salute.

"At ease," the goblin rumbled, with Nines standing down.

"And you must be Miss Granger," he stated, as he spoke to the actress.

"Yes. I am she," the brunette acknowledged.

"Nines, of the Albion Home Guard," he said, introducing himself. "I've come to escort some new students to the Wizarding Institute, and to see to their security personally. I understand you are to take charge of them?"

"That is correct," the actress said, perhaps a bit stiffly. She paused for a moment to look at him closely. "Have we met before?" she asked, her tone almost…curious. "You seem…familiar, somehow."

"No, ma'am, not in this lifetime," came the ready reply. "I look forward to working with you."

"I'm sure," the actress responded, less than entirely enthusiastically. "I'll take the children now. You have business with Master Mudbutton, I presume?"

"Or rather, I have business with him and his partner," the goblin noted gravely. "Gretlok, Snaphook, escort Miss Granger and the children to the administration building please."

"It's only across the courtyard, Master Mudbutton. I'm sure we'll be safe enough."

"I'm sure, but better safe than sorry, Miss Granger."

"…if you insist," the young woman agreed. "Come along now, we must get you registered and assigned to rooms. Mister Nines will be joining you soon enough."

"Indeed. Until then," Nines said, seeing the children off with a wave.

"I look forward to discussing what you bring to the table, Mister Nines," the goblin noted gravely, as he watched Hermione Granger leave with the children in tow. "You and your partner both."

"I do hope I will not disappoint, sir."

"You, no, but your companion..."

"What about me?" Lumi questioned, speaking up for the first time.

"Known quantities are...easier to deal with than unknowns. Isn't that so?"

"Depends," Nines grunted. "Are they known unknowns, or unknown unknowns."

"Yes."


End file.
